Just Harry
by Belle A Lestrange
Summary: Sequel to 'ONE WISH'. Draco filters through memories that led up to the making of his and Harry's relationship, the Weasley family persist in their rights to see the comatose Harry. Draco refuses after what happened last time. He needs to keep Harry safe. And if reading to him every night about how they fell in love brings him back, then so be it. (M for sexual content later on.)
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is the long awaited prequel to my one-shot "ONE WISH". This will be a multi-chaptered story and revolve around where we left off in the sequel and explore the years before that since the wizarding war.**

 **Notes: established relationship.**

* * *

 **Just Harry**

 ** _Prologue_**

 _Present_

Draco ran a hand down his face as he shuffled in through the front door. It had only just stopped raining outside and he felt frozen stiff. Seeker padded up to him his tail low between his legs and a soft whine choking from his throat. He gave a fleeting smile and stroked his fingers through the dog's warm fur before toeing his shoes off and sliding them under the side table.

"How've you been today, boy?" he asked softly as he dragged his aching body to the kitchen. He blinked, trying to rid the images of St. Mungo's from behind his eyelids. It would take a while for them to fade and then he'd be going back tomorrow and embedding the clinical horrors ever deeper into his mind. He shuddered and pried open the fridge.

It was sparsely filled and the few items in there made his stomach churn.

He busied himself with dishing out some dog-food into Seeker's bowl and scratched the dog behind his ears affectionately as he came over into the kitchen. He leaned back against the counter and watched the dog eat, something so familiar and yet it disheartened him that Harry wasn't there to watch it. Something so menial was trivial to him now, but for Harry to be there and watching with him -it would have made all the difference.

With another sigh, he forced himself across their flat to the bedroom and set about prying his clothes from his chilled body. He tossed everything into the wash-bin, trying not to let his mind wonder to Harry and the small quips he'd usually say. The flat was eerie and silent as he shuffled about changing into his pyjamas and a warm dressing gown.

An hour later he found himself curled up on the sofa, a throw blanket over his waist and Seeker curled up on top of his feet at the other end of the sofa. The TV was playing some mindless comedic nonsense in the background. He had his laptop open on his legs with the word document open, the cursor blinking away.

He wanted to write but he couldn't.

Hermione's words of discouragement kept ringing through his ears every time he hovered his fingers over the keyboard.

" _There's no point in you writing this book, Draco!_ " she'd admonished one day over coffee, " _No publishers will pick it up and on top of that most people will think you've made it all up._ "

He shook his head and scowled at himself for letting her words get to him. It had been a long, rough day that was all. The nurse's had gotten under his nose and the new Healer appointed to Harry's ward was a moron if ever there was one. It was a wonder he'd even passed his exams. How could someone so stupid be in charge of other people's lives?

Biting his bottom lip he flexed his shoulders and scrolled through the pages he'd already written. There were a few highlighted segments that he knew he needed to revise, but he couldn't be bothered with any of that until he'd at least gotten half of what he wanted to say written down. His throat felt thick as an image of Harry flashed through his mind.

He cringed.

He hated how his lover had looked, so weak and pale lying almost motionless in the hospital bed in a magically induced coma. His features had looked gaunt and the shadows under his eyes had looked like bruises. It had irked him. He wanted to bring the homely amenities to the bed but knew he'd be thrown out if he even tried. Those nurses were just itching for a reason to throw him out.

Hermione hadn't been to see Harry in over a week. She claimed it was too distressing for her. He could understand and even sympathize to an extent, but even so they had been friend since they were eleven. Surely she could get over herself to go and see him? If he could find it in his heart to selflessly put up with the nonsense from the hospital staff as well as the constant articles speculating about Harry's heath in the newspapers, then she could certainly spare an afternoon or two a week.

Even Ron had managed to go and see Harry, even if he had only stayed for an hour. It still showed that he _cared_.

Tipping his head back to lean on the back of the sofa he swallowed thickly and closed his eyes. Ever since their impromptu get-away to Blackpool, Harry's condition hadn't improved. It hadn't _deteriorated_ but the Healer's refused to let him read too much into _that_. Suffice to say, Harry was stable he was merely hovering just below the neutral setting.

Draco had taken it upon himself to get into a sort of routine with each visit. He'd make sure that Harry had been changed and bathed without the use of ' _Scourgify_ ', even if it meant washing his lover himself. There was literally nothing sexual about it; it was merely that he couldn't bear the thought of Harry lying in his own filth and sweat for longer than necessary. It made him physically sick to think how many times Harry would have wallowed in his own piss if it hadn't been for him.

Hermione still tried to insist that the nurse's knew what they were doing but Draco knew that their policy was that if Harry didn't know about it then there was no need to go to such lengths.

It was disgusting but what could he do?

He'd stayed longer than usual that afternoon. He hadn't left until the sky had started to turn dark. He'd read the current book he was reading for about an hour. When his voice had gotten a little hoarse, he'd spend another hour talking in hushed tones to Harry and holding his hand. He'd also changed Harry's little cotton skull cap with a replenishing warming charm. He didn't like the idea of Harry getting a head cold on top of everything else.

A throbbing ache started up in his chest and it suddenly hurt to breathe. He rubbed at his chest but couldn't ease it. He drew his dressing gown tighter around him and burrowed further down on the sofa.

He didn't want to go to bed. Alone.

Always alone. The time in Blackpool had felt like forever ago. The feeling of Harry's warm, skinny body pressed against his was almost a distant memory. He shivered and curled his legs underneath him for some extra warmth. True, he could always use some heating charms on the mattress but it just wasn't the same. Even sleeping with Seeker in the bed was losing its appeal.

All too soon the glare of the laptop got too much for his eyes.

He closed everything down and nudged Seeker with his foot to get him to hop off the sofa. They made their way over to the main bedroom, flicking his wand to turn the lights off as he went.

The mattress was cold and felt a little lumpy as he settled down onto it, patting the middle of the bed as he did so. Seeker leaped up and nestled down next to Draco's body, the sudden warmth making him shiver. Placing his wand on the night-stand, he reached for the silver photo frame. It was one of the few photos he'd manufactured from his pensieve. One of his precious memories from their trip to Blackpool. True, it wasn't the most flattering photo of Harry himself considering how ill he'd looked. He'd even been too ill to wear a glamour which had broken Draco's heart. With a sigh, he ran his thumb over the frame, his grey eyes prickling a little as the overwhelming loneliness swarmed in his chest.

His mind absently wondered to the other photo frame on the nightstand; it was a photo of him and Harry on a muggle yacht when they were only eighteen years old. It had been after the war, after Draco had eventually graduated from Hogwarts and after the hype of Voldemort's death and dwindled a little. Not enough for Death Eater's to not get harassed as Draco had found out, but it had been enough for some civility to develop between Harry and the Slytherin's.

Draco couldn't help but huff a laugh. It was such a strange memory, how they had come to take that 'gap year' together, as Harry had called it. He hadn't understood it, but the chance to run away from most things for a year and just have fun? It had been such a foreign concept -and he'd been in such a low place -that he'd jumped at the chance.

Not that anyone had approved, least of all Hermione, Ron and the Weaslette. Not that it had stopped Harry and him going on the trip.

Running a hand down his face he sighed and replaced the photo frame's on the nightstand before burrowing down under the blankets, Seeker shifting closer to him as he did so. As he drifted off to sleep his thoughts kept running back around to that gap year and how it had come to be. He couldn't ignore it. Perhaps if he'd told the story of how that happened, people would understand him -maybe even understand _them_.

It was a shot in the dark but he had to try.

* * *

 **A short little prologue to draw you in. Bee x**


	2. Coffee & Books

**A/N: Okay so now we get into the nitty gritty-ness. Hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

 **Chapter One**

 **Coffee and Books**

It had been a long year since the war.

Draco hadn't known what else to do with himself. He'd spent the majority of his time shuffling back and forth to the ministry to witness the trials of his mother, father and even one for himself. His father had ended up being sentenced to ten years in Azkaban with the possibility of parole after a minimum of five years, whereas his mother had gotten three years. She had been let out just a week okay due to good behaviour and after the ministry and liquidized the Malfoy accounts and sold most of the artefacts in their vaults, she had insisted that Draco go outside and do something with his time. She was still on house arrest for six months, which was made even worse by the fact that it was summer time.

Draco hadn't been put on house arrest like he'd expected; he did get over three hundred hours of community service and a curfew from when he was allowed out of the house. The only problem with that was that no one wanted help from a Death Eater, no matter how young he was, or the fact that it was ministry-appointed. It was becoming incredibly difficult to make the hours up. Until they were done he wasn't allowed to even think about looking for a job until the hours were done.

One of those afternoons in late June he found himself taking a detour into muggle London. It was a rare time of his life that he didn't have to worry about the restraint on his magic. He wasn't even allowed to use his wand outside of the manor. Muggle London, as perplexing as it was, was still reassuring that he didn't feel too out of place.

The clothes on the other hand were irritating his skin at the best of times. Although that could also be the fact that the under-cover auror was tailing him as though he couldn't be trusted walking down the street without striking fear into people's hearts.

He rolled his eyes as he scanned the high street. What was he meant to do with his time? He couldn't stand being cooped up in the manor with his mother. He loved her dearly but she was even boring herself and there were only so many tea parties a fallen pureblood could host. He had told her he'd be going out to London and that he'd bring her back something nice, even if it was just the memories in a Pensieve.

Around two o'clock he was getting a little fed-up with the hot sunshine. He needed to do something with his time and duck into somewhere that was cool and shaded.

That's when his eyes came across the small bookshop tucked in between two large clothes shops.

It was small and colourful compared to the grey concrete surrounding it. It didn't look too crowded inside and that's all that Draco needed. He was not in the mood to be surrounded by people.

The small bell over the door twinkled as he walked inside.

The aroma of hundreds of books, new and old, smacked him in the face and he was instantly reminded of ducking between bookshelves under the hawk-like gaze of Madam Pince at Hogwarts. As the nostalgia gripped him he was vaguely aware of the under-cover auror entering the shop behind him and slipping along one of the aisles, pretending to take an interest in the large gothic tomes at the top of the shelves. Draco rolled his eyes and edged further into the shop, deciding to keep his distance from the auror if he was able to.

The bookshop was small and sweet -a lot smaller than the now empty library in the manor -but it was quaint in the small coffee tables and plush armchairs that took up the empty spaces between the bookshelves. It gave a rather home-y feel to the place, not that Draco's home had ever felt that comforting. He assumed other's homes felt that way though.

He eyes lazily scanned the titles of numerous muggle fiction books and he couldn't believe some of the crap they actually wrote about. There were so many genres and Draco quickly found himself scanning the shelves to find any gems he could take home to his mother for a chuckle. She definitely needed cheering up. He was just skim-reading through a book written by some 'Terry Pratchett' guy when movement out of the corner of his eye made his head jerk up.

He just caught a glimpse of a worn converse disappear out of sight around the corner of the bookcase. He tried to drop his attention back to the book in his head with the wit and sarcasm printed before his eyes, but his mind was trailing up the staircase with that pair of tattered jeans. He told himself he was going up to the second floor anyway, but even as he climbed the iron spiral staircase he didn't believe himself.

The second floor was larger than the one down below. It looked like it backed over into the neighbouring building, somehow. Curious, he mounted the last few steps and crossed the landing. There were bookcases pressed against every available wall space. He tried to stay focused on finding the person wearing those jeans, but the titles of the books were just so distracting. He was just reaching up for a book on the highest shelf when he lost his footing and tipped sideways into someone.

"Sorry didn't mean to -Malfoy?"

Fuck, he knew that voice. Of all places to hear that voice why did it have to be here, in the one place he'd found some semblance of peace in months? He grimaced and straightened up not wanting to look the shorter man in the face. "What're you doing here Potter?" he griped, trying to put some distance between them both.

Potter frowned a little heavier, more stunned to see Draco in somewhere so 'muggle' as opposed to the fact that he was, in fact, seeing Draco at all. The look on his face morphed into something a little more neutral, although Draco could tell that he was still on his guard. He probably had his wand up his sleeve. Draco fingered the handle of his own wand, wishing it wasn't so useless. He felt his body heat up under Potter's gaze.

"I could ask you the same thing," Potter countered, his head tipping to one side.

"Obviously looking for a book," Draco sneered, turning his attention to the books. They weren't holding his interest anymore. He felt tense and his skin felt hot and prickly.

"In muggle London?" he asked apparently deciding not to leave Draco alone to his own devices. Draco ground his teeth together.

"Yes," he hissed, "So what?"

"Just never thought I'd see you in a place like this," Potter stated with a shrug.

He could have risen to the bait. He could have snapped and snarled and been a vicious little git, as was customary of those born to Slytherin. However, months of fighting to be heard, being branded a liar had finally exhausted him. "Whatever," Draco had decided he'd had enough. He didn't need to stand there talking to Potter for no reason other than to be mocked. Shoving the rest of the random books on the shelves, he turned and hurried down the staircase before stalking out of the shop. The door slammed shut behind him.

He didn't know if the auror was able to follow him or not, but he made very short work of operating the port-key that took him just outside the Manor gates.

The heavy click of the front door seemed to echo in the vast emptiness of the manor. The tall, dark walls were mostly bare save for the odd portrait that had been a Black Family heirloom. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. He hadn't liked those portraits anyway; however the halls looked so empty and bland without them.

A shiver ran through his body.

Walking through the manor he finally found his mother in the East Wing of the manor, the sunlight pouring in through the window fell on her hair and made her look ethereal, like an angel. He knocked lightly on the door, "Good evening mother, how was your day?" He regretted his words as soon as he'd said them. What else would she be doing, being stuck in the manor all day? Painting her nails?

Thankfully, the merely gave him a thin smile, "It's been rather tedious as per usual. How was your day? Did that auror follow you?"

"Yes," he muttered darkly, crossing over to seat himself on the other side of the coffee table from his mother. "He's not even subtle I am really surprised he even bothered to be in a disguise."

She gave a small chuckle before inclining her head. "Would you like some tea, dear?" she gestured to the tray in front of her. He nodded his head and watched as her dainty hands poured him some black tea, no milk, and two lumps of sugar. "So tell me, how was your day?" she asked her face alight with curiosity as she settled back in her chair and watched him.

He recounted some of his afternoon before stopping short. Should he tell his mother about running into Potter? Shaking his head he smiled up at her and sipped his tea, "It was a nice enough place. I might go by there again."

"Naturally, dear," Narcissa smiled, "And maybe next time you can pick up one of those silly muggle books so we can have a laugh after dessert one evening."

For the rest of the night he pushed Potter to the back of his mind and instead focused on his mother. She'd gotten into the habit of rubbing her wedding ring absently. It broke his heart whenever he caught her doing it because he knew it meant she was thinking about where his father was and how much distance separated them. It must have broken her heart every night knowing that she wouldn't feel the warmth of his presence any time soon.

Draco went to bed that night cold and alone, like any other night, only this evening he was wide awake and all too aware of how miserable he was. His friends were all keeping low profiles both in and out of the wizarding community. He didn't really have anyone to talk to, to open up to, and truthfully even if he did he couldn't trust anyone with his innermost thoughts. How could he trust anyone to not run to the _Prophet_ the first chance they got? He couldn't, that was for sure.

With a sigh he rolled over onto his side and tried to get some sleep before the next monotonous day began.

It was another week before he found himself at the little bookshop again. The auror was a little more subtle that day, blending in a little more, but even so Draco couldn't help roll his eyes at the obviousness of the man. Did they really think he couldn't see them? Who was in charge of training these people before they were let out into the field?

The day was humid and made him feel uncomfortable in his own skin as he ducked in and out of the shade offered by the large department stores. He felt a small bead of relief as he went inside the bookshop, the bell twinkling as he hurried up the spiral staircase. He picked a couple of books from the 'Fantasy' section and settled down in one of the soft leather armchairs in the corner. He made a statement of slumping a little lower in the chair, shielding himself from nosy people with the book in front of his face, one leg crossed over the other knee and opening the cover.

The book he'd picked up was peculiar but it must have had some good scenes in it at least as he passed about an hour in his secluded corner before the sound of someone clearing their throat at him. Peering up over the top of his book he felt every muscle in his body tense at the sight of the bespectacled git. Potter blinked down at him but didn't make any move to speak. Draco cocked a blonde eyebrow at him before sighing loudly. "What do you want, Potter?" he ground out through clenched teeth.

"Mind if I take that seat?" he asked, gesturing towards the leather armchair beside him.

Draco looked over it as though it was poisonous. He held his book a little tighter before sighing loudly and turning back to his book, "Do what you want."

He felt the back of his neck grow hot as he tried not to focus on Potter shifting around his legs and settling into the neighbouring chair. He tried not to let the faint smell of aftershave tickle his nose or make his stomach twist a little uncomfortably. The leather creaked under Potter's weight as he settled down and started reading through a newspaper. Why read the muggle newspaper when there were so many other books to take an interest in? He shrugged, it wasn't his business anyway.

He don't know how much time had passed before Potter hummed a little louder than normal before sighing. It happened about three times before Draco had had enough. Leaning over the chair he hissed, "Can you please do me the pleasure of shutting the hell up, Potter?" he snarled, "I'm trying to read."

"You're reading ' _Eragon_ '? Really?"

"Yes," Draco bristled, "It's about dragons. I happen to _like_ dragons."

"Unbearably cliché for you, but whatever," Potter stated before turning to his newspaper and frowning heavily. Draco couldn't resume his reading. He felt too riled up. How dare Potter judge him for finding something he liked in his otherwise hellish existence!

Tightening his fingers into a fist he leaned over yet again and sneered, "Why are you even here, Potter? Stalking me? I bet you can't wait to run off and tell the Weasel about this."

"Not that it's any of your business but Ron and I are fighting right now," Potter stated blandly, a muscle in his neck twitching. "And the whole world doesn't revolve around you, you know."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Then how come you're here the two times I've been here?"

"It's a coincidence, clearly," Potter stated as he tapped the tip of a muggle pen against his knee.

Draco didn't know what to say to that. He ground his teeth together in a vain attempt to come up with a retort, but in the end he simply reclined in his armchair. He tried to maintain his air of indifference as he resumed his reading. Unfortunately, it was shattered by yet another sigh from Potter. "Dear Merlin what are you trying to do?" Draco snapped.

"A crossword puzzle," Potter replied, tapping the tip of the pen between his teeth.

Draco frowned, "What are you talking about?" Potter then had the audacity to turn his paper around -What the Hell was _The Daily Mail_? -to show Draco the half-finished stack of blocks. The words were strange and most of them he'd never heard of before. "Why on earth would you waste your time with any of that?" he sneered as he leaned away to the other side of his armchair.

"It's meant to help you improve your memory but I'm pretty sure the people who write these were hit by a stunning spell," Potter murmured quietly so that only the two of them could hear. Draco rolled his eyes and didn't comment. Why couldn't Potter just leave him well alone? "I can't concentrate," he finally sighed and tossed his pen onto the table. Turning to Draco he cocked a dark eyebrow, "Do you want to grab some coffee?"

"Coffee?" Draco wrinkled his nose, momentarily ignoring the fact that it was Potter who was asking him, "In this heat? Are you serious?"

Potter rolled his eyes, "Alright, we can have iced tea or something?"

Draco wrinkled his nose a little and shook his head, "I think you're the one who got hit with a wayward spell, Potter." Shifting onto his feet he gripped the book in his hand and made for the spiral staircase. He was at least going to leave with _something_ to bring back to his mother. He ignored Potter as he hurried down the staircase towards the checkout point.

He waited in line behind a stout woman with a book clasped to her chest as though her very life depended on it. He sighed loudly not bothering to hide his annoyance at the slow person with thick glasses behind the small desk wedged off to one side. He tapped his fingers on the cover as he tapped his foot over and over again. Shuffling forward as the small woman in front of him toddled up to the checkout desk, Draco ground his teeth together, and wondering why he'd thought coming into muggle London was a good idea when everything happened so _slowly_.

At long last it was his turn. He tuned everything out as the book was scanned and then shoved into a blue plastic bag. "That'll be seven, ninety-nine," the glum looking woman said as she looked at him with a bored expression.

He blinked.

She stared at him and cocked an eyebrow, "That'll be seven, ninety-nine _please._ "

He panicked. He started to shift about and dipped his hands in his pockets, knowing full well that he didn't have any muggle money with him. How could he have been so stupid? Going out into muggle London without the proper currency. He'd never step foot into Diagon Alley without knowing that he had some galleons on his as well as knowing that he had access to his vaults. This time the woman behind the desk was the one who sighed. "I seem to be a little short," he stated through clenched teeth.

"Sir, if you don't have the right change, you can't have the book," she said as though she were talking to a four-year-old.

"Don't you think I know that?" he sneered, turning his burning glare on her. Patting down his pockets to make sure he definitely didn't have any muggle money he sighed and shrugged a stiff shoulder, "I guess I'll go without then."

He turned and walked straight into Harry bloody Potter. Of course. Just his luck today really. Potter raised his eyebrows up at him but kept the rest of his face neutral. "Is there a problem here?" he asked in a curious tone.

"Nothing to concern yourself with, Potter," he sneered, curling his lip up at the brunette. He could feel his cheeks burn in humiliation. He didn't need to stand around and take this crap. Brushing past the shorter teen, he kept his face down as he hurried out of the shop and around to the apparition point the undercover auror dogging his steps the entire time.

Returning home empty-handed yet again was yet another thing that added to the hollow knowledge that, without his family's name to invoke fear in the world, he really was just a useless little boy. Sighing, he leaned his weight back on the door and sighed as he took in the bleak interior of his home. Home; it hadn't really been that for the last three years, especially not now that his father wasn't there.

 _"Draco? Is that you?_ " his mother's voice called out from the front parlour.

"Yes mother!" he called back, his throat feeling raw at having to raise his voice. He felt too exhausted to care anymore at that point.

" _Oh good. A package just arrived for you!_ "

Draco frowned. He hadn't ordered anything. He knew that none of his friends would have sent him anything, especially not now that the aurors checked their mail in-coming and out-going. So who had sent him anything at all? It wasn't like letters could get misplaced, not with their owls. With a heavy frown creasing his forehead, he cautiously trailed into the front parlour where his mother was sat, drinking yet more tea. His eyes fell upon the neatly wrapped parcel that sat on the windowsill.

He didn't recognize the handwriting on the front of the brown paper but couldn't control the quiver in his hand as he slowly ripped it open. It was what he'd anticipated; a book. Only it wasn't just any book. It was the book he had been reading in the bookshop that afternoon, the one he had chosen to bring home to mother to read to her. The one he'd left on the counter because he'd been too embarrassed that Potter had seen his weakness.

 _Potter._

Clenching his fingers tightly around the book he drew in a deep breath and ground his teeth. "Who's the parcel from, dear?" Narcissa asked from behind him.

"It's a book. Potter bought it for me."

" _Harry_ Potter?" Narcissa frowned as she set her needlepoint to one side, a hobby she loathed but took it up once again as soon as they'd announced she was under house arrest. "When did you bump into him?"

"In a bookshop in muggle London. I didn't think he would be there. Least of all to bump into him _twice_ in the same place," he stressed as he waved the book through the air, "And now he goes and sends me this book!"

Calmly looking up at her son, Narcissa asked, "Then why are you getting yourself upset? It's a nice gesture isn't it?"

"No it isn't!" he ground out his temper flaring up. "He saw me getting humiliated because I forgot my stupid muggle currency and now he's clearly rubbing it in my face!"

"Darling, I honestly think that you're working yourself up over nothing. Stop reading too much into it. It was a nice gesture. Just give him the money if and when you next see him."

Draco glowered at his mother but her gaze remained firm and calm. Finally he felt his shoulders slump. He knew she was right. He had been bored for so long that the first indication that someone was reaching out to him in any way, was enough to get his heart thumping heavily in his chest. Looking back down in his hand at the book he felt a strange sort of warmth curl in his stomach. Then he felt the corner of his mouth turn upwards. Walking over to a free armchair he sat down and opened the book in his lap. "I think you're going to enjoy this mother. It's right up your street."

~0~

It wasn't that long before Draco had convinced himself to go back to the little bookshop for the third time, this time with a little pouch of muggle coins just in case. He knew the route almost by heart at this point not that he would admit it to anyone. His mother had enjoyed the book he'd been reading to her, the both of them laughing about how many complicated problems muggles had in their daily lives. It was nice to see her smiling again, even if it was over a silly muggle book.

Entering the bookshop he felt his ears burn a little as the weight of the desk-clerks eyes fell on him. Pulling awkwardly on the collar of his shirt, he quickly turned and made his way up the spiral staircase so that he could browse some more of the books. He wanted another one to take home to his mother. Seeing her life made him feel like he had finally done something right, no matter how small.

He didn't realise he was waiting to see if Potter was going to show up until he pulled a muscle in his neck from twisting it and looking at the next person who'd creaked up the staircase to the second floor. He rolled his eyes at himself before forcing himself to look at the books in front of him and tried to focus on the titles.

Maybe Potter was busy today? He did have a life of his own after all.

In his right arm he had three books balanced against his hip and was just looking at the title of a potential fourth, when the bell downstairs twinkled again. He told himself not to crane his neck and look. Potter wasn't coming and there wasn't anything wrong with that. They both had lives, completely separate ones at that, so he needed to try and not feel too disappointed that he wouldn't see another young wizard his own age. He could live with it; he'd survived for almost an entire year so why should it suddenly matter now?

The bell twinkled again, jarring his nerves.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end.

"Okay, seriously this is getting ridiculous. Are you sure you're not following me Malfoy?"

Whipping around Draco tried not to show just how happy hearing Potter's voice made him. Straightening himself to tower over the smaller boy that little bit more, he inclined his head, "I have better things to do with my time."

"I'm sure you do," he could practically hear the smile in Potter's voice, "Like picking out silly muggle books?"

Draco shrugged, "They're entertaining."

Potter shifted a little beside him as Draco returned his attention onto the bookshelves, "So did you get the book I sent you?"

"Yes," he bristled a little, "You didn't need to send it to me you know. I could've come back and gotten it myself."

"Probably," Potter agreed, "But I also know that you have a lot of pride and you wouldn't have come back for a while. By that point they might have sold the book."

Biting his tongue Draco didn't know whether to be insulted or intrigued. It was true that he had a lot of pride and he couldn't deny that the way Potter had described things would have been pretty accurate. However, getting the book anyway had put him in such a good mood after seeing his mother laugh that he just had to come back. Shrugging a shoulder he finally settled on his fourth book and added it to the small pile in his arms. "Regardless I plan on paying you back," he stated matter-of-factly as he brushed by Potter and started descending the stairs. Potter followed him. Making his way over to the desk, Draco placed the books on the counter and glared as the woman scanned each book with the same bored expression and shoved his items into a plastic bag.

"That'll be thirty-one, ninety-six please."

With a smirk, Draco handed over the money and practically snatched his change back as though the coins would disappear. The smile Potter gave him as they drifted out of the shop was enough to make Draco's stomach knot a little as they walked out into the sunshine. "So I guess I'll see you around?" he said a little awkwardly as they wondered to a stop at the end of the block.

Potter frowned up at the bright blue, cloudless sky and the dazzling sunshine. "It's still early. Do you really want to go back to the manor or do you want to grab that coffee?"

Draco frowned before he remembered the first time he had bumped into Potter. He suddenly felt tight and awkward as he looked around at the muggles shuffling along down the street. On the one hand he wanted to get back to his mother but on the other hand the chance of freedom? Doing something normal like drinking coffee? Even if it was with Harry bloody Potter. Gnawing on the inside of his cheek he cocked his head to the side before nodding. "Sure that sounds good."

Potter blinked in surprise clearly not expecting Draco to agree to his proposal so easily. Draco took some small delight in that fact. He wasn't quite as predictable after the war as he'd first thought. "Um ... well alright then. Let's go and find a Starbucks or Costa or something."

"What?" Draco asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Coffee houses," Potter explained as he turned and started to walk along down the road. Draco followed closely at his side, not taking too kindly to the way the muggles jostled and barged against one another and himself, just to get to the shops further up the road behind them. "Here we are," Potter announced suddenly, his voice making Draco start a little as they stood in front of the glass doors of a building with a large 'COSTA' sign over the door.

"You want to drink coffee in here?" Draco asked the distaste crystal clear in his voice.

Potter rolled his eyes. "Yes, I thought you wanted a drink?"

"I do," he replied tightly.

"Then come inside and pick something out." When he saw that Draco was still uncertain he yanked the door open and cocked an eyebrow, "It's on me."

That decided it. If Potter was going to offer him a free beverage who was he to turn it down? It would simply be rude. He didn't turn back to glare as he heard Potter chuckle behind him. He simply let that one go as they made their way to the counter, the glass door sliding firmly back into place behind them.


	3. Ducks & Dinner

**A/N: Hey there lovelies I hope you enjoy this next update!**

* * *

 **Chapter Two:**

 **Ducks and Dinner**

"So what do you think of it so far?" Draco asked softly from his spot at the head of the bed, propped up in the armchair provided for him by a miserable looking Healer who looked as though he'd much sooner throw Draco out into the street than have 'his kind' tainting the Chosen One. He didn't care what any of them thought. He was here to visit Harry not bend to their will. He knew Harry wouldn't -couldn't -answer him but he needed to keep things normal between them. That included talking to Harry and, if he had to, imagine his response to his inane questions.

He had just finished reading the first draft of the first chapter to the comatose man beside him and felt his lips tremble at the silence. He knew he was torturing himself but what could he do? He knew that if their roles had been reversed, Harry would have refused to even leave the hospital. Draco couldn't do that. As much as he loved Harry, Seeker needed to know that things weren't too different, that at least one of his master's was there for him.

Tapping his pen between his teeth to distract himself, another bad habit he needed to get out of, he frowned at the papers. It read alright, probably not perfect, but something was missing. He felt like maybe he needed visual aids to help express to the reader the monumental shifts in his and Harry's relationship. But how did one go about that?

"Do you think I should have a small photo at the end of each chapter? Just to add a little more emphasis?" he mused aloud. "I know it sounds a little cliche, but I just think that it would add a little something for reader. They had photo's in Dumbledore's biography from Skeeter, but then ours would be a little more personal." He snickered to himself and shook his head, "I guess I'll need to dig around for some decent ones from that year, eh?"

Naturally, Harry didn't respond but Draco felt a little lighter as he tucked the shrunken pages into his pocket and stood up, his knees creaking a little. Stretching his muscles out, his sighed heavily and looked down at Harry. The aura around him glowed green and gold to show his statistics. Nothing had changed. Leaning down he adjusted the black cotton skull-cap on Harry's bald head before pressing a warm, lingering kiss to his forehead. "I'll be back soon, my love. I promise."

He had tears burning in his eyes as he hurried on out of St. Mungo's to the apparition point around the corner.

~0~

They didn't speak the entire way to the closest coffee house and when they entered, Draco had to admit, if even just to himself, that he was thoroughly unimpressed. Screwing his nose up he followed Potter up to the counter and waited their turn before he told Potter to get him a black tea, two sugars, no milk. Potter smiled, a knowing gleam in his bright green eyes, but didn't say anything as he paid with a colourful note -the muggles had paper money? How peculiar! -before they were given their drinks.

Draco took his and stood a little awkwardly as Potter scanned for a free seat. "There's one!" he pointed to a small two-seated table and made a bee-line for it. Draco followed feeling stiff as he gripped his paper coffee cup and tried not to grimace at how disgusting people were when they were eating in public made his stomach turn. As soon as they sat down he felt a little better, his back to the majority of the muggles shuffling in and out through the glass doors. "You look a little uncomfortable," Potter observed after a little while, his unzipped hoodie bunching up as he ducked his head down to sip his drink. "We don't have to stay here if you feel inadequate."

Draco looked up at him before pressing his lips together. "I'm fine, Potter."

Potter tilted his head and licked some foam from his spoon, "Okay but I was going to suggest we could walk around and sit in the park."

"In the _dirt_?" Draco sneered, wrinkling his nose, "You _must_ be joking!"

Potter rolled his eyes but didn't hesitate to pick up his cup and gesture for Draco to do the same, "Come on, let's go and see how the nice muggles live in their natural habitat."

Draco spluttered in protest but wasn't about to be left on his own in a strange environment. Grabbing his black tea by the cardboard collar, he hurried outside after Potter. The brunette wasn't hard to spot and Draco was seething as his long legs carried him to his former rivals side in less than ten strides. He wanted to shoot a scathing remark at the shorter teen but he was too angry to formulate a coherent retort. That only served to make him angrier.

They didn't speak the entire walk towards the park. Draco was silently fuming as they hurried on through the dazzling sunlight. He trailed behind Potter as he wondered over to a bench over-looking the lake. He grumbled to himself as Potter dropped down, stretched his legs and starting drinking from his take-away cup. Draco settled on the very edge of the bench, his cup balanced on his knee.

It was a while before either one of them said anything. Ever the hero, Potter was the one to swoop in and save the conversation. Obviously.

"So what've you been doing these past few months?" Potter asked, squinting out over the lake. The reflection of the sun bounced off every ripple.

" _That's_ your question?" Draco snorted, "You're not going to be a very good auror."

Potter snorted weakly before taking another sip of his drink, "Not so sure I want to be an auror."

Draco frowned and cocked a blonde eyebrow, "Really? Now that is a surprise."

Shrugging, the brunette murmured, "Yeah well I'm bored of playing the hero, ironically. I want to be a normal teenager, do things a normal teenager does."

"And what does that entail?" Draco asked in a bored tone of voice as his gaze watched some ducks lazily glide along the glassy surface of the pond. It was beautiful and calming.

"A gap year, as far as I can figure out."

"What the fuck is that?" he grumbled as he cast a sideways glance at Potter.

"It's a year where you do what you want; you can work, travel, or ... well ... do whatever you want."

"And that ... interests you?" the blonde frowned, clearly skeptical about the concept.

Potter shrugged, "Honestly, I need time away from everything. I'm sick of funeral's and speeches and reporters. Why else do you think I come out here all the time, to muggle London? It's quiet compared to the other side."

Draco snorted but didn't say anything. Of course Potter would complain about the miserable existence of being in the spotlight, with all that money, the fame and having the entire wizarding world fawning over him. How awful it all was! Rolling his eyes Draco leaned forward in his seat and held his cup between his legs. "Well what are you waiting for? Why not just up and go?"

Potter hummed before replying, "Ron and I had a fight. Naturally Hermione is leaning more towards Ron because they're dating now, but she can see my side as well."

"And you don't want to leave with bad blood between you?"

"Exactly."

"That's pathetic Potter! What was this fight even about anyway?"

Potter groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "It was another fight about my not wanting to date Ginny anymore." Suddenly he gave a rough laugh, "Wow, I never thought I'd be sat on a bench in muggle London with you of all people, confessing my lack of relationship status."

"You and me both," Draco murmured. He looked down at the cup in his hands. There were only a few dregs of tea left and he didn't have the energy to drink any of it. The sun was beating down on the back of his neck and he couldn't keep his mind from straying to his mother, cooped up in the manor all day along, with nothing to do and no one to talk to. With a gentle sigh he stood up and tossed his cup into a nearby bin. "It's been a pleasure, Potter, but I need to be getting back to Mother."

"Oh right, I read in the paper's that she was under house arrest," Potter blinked up at him. He seemed to debate on what to say for a few moments before dipping his chin, "Send her my regards."

Draco nodded stiffly, doubting very much whether he would do such a thing. "Very well. Goodbye Potter."

Without a backwards glance, he strode briskly from the park to the apparition point and went home.

It became somewhat of a routine for the two of them to bump into one another at least three times a week in the little bookshop. Sometimes they would sit and do crosswords puzzles and sometimes they would simply walk through the park in silence, sipping their tea and coffee. They never agreed to meet up beforehand. Sometimes Draco would spend the afternoon in muggle alone, but more often than not Potter would materialize out of nowhere for a while. He couldn't deny he liked the company. The auror who tailed him really wasn't an option.

It was the end of July before Draco decided he needed to ask a question that had been bugging him for a while now, but he hadn't felt comfortable enough around Potter to ask it. Sometimes it was still awkward between them, but it didn't feel as strained as before.

This time they were sitting on a grey tartan blanket as all the benches were taken up my elderly people feeding ducks in the park, something Draco didn't understand.

"So what does Weasley and Granger think about you meeting up with me every other day?" he asked as he tugged at a stray thread on the end of the blanket.

Potter hummed before turning to look up at the blonde. "Honestly? They're not happy about it."

"Stating the obvious."

"Yeah well they reckon it's an awfully big coincidence that you show up in the one bookshop I love so much in muggle London."

"For someone as smart as Granger, I'm surprised at how stupid she's being," Draco stated.

"What do you mean?" Potter asked with a frown.

"Well she readers the Prophet almost religiously, correct? She should know all the in's and out's of the trails off by heart at this point. Yet, she allowed Weasley to continue on his tirades without interjecting with some logic once in a while? Either he gets smarter, or she'll continue to dumb herself down just to appease him and not cause friction." Glancing at Potter he hummed, "Well, there's already friction but as long as she gets laid I guess he doesn't care."

He jerked in surprise when Potter shoved him roughly, "Don't talk about Hermione like that!" the brunette snarled.

Draco glared, "I'm just being honest! I'm sorry if you don't like to hear it, but she needs to stop being a wimp around him. She has the brainpower but refuses to use it because she doesn't want to cause any problems, yet one of her so-called best friends is being shunned!"

Potter opened his mouth to object, but soon clamped it shut again. He had no comeback. It was a rare moment for Draco to be so perfectly right that he wasn't sure how to react other than to have a huge, smug grin on his face. They sat in silence for a while before Potter dropped his head against his raised knees and sighed softly, "Yeah fine, you're right. Happy now? It's one of the reasons I didn't go to the Burrow this summer."

"The Burrow?" Draco asked, wrinkling his nose.

"That's what the Weasley's named their house," Potter murmured absently.

Draco filed the name away for future use, before wrinkling his nose even further. It couldn't help but think that it seemed pretty perfect considering the redhead's literally did breed like weasels. He didn't say anything though. He didn't need another shove from Potter, even if it did make them seem awfully 'friendly' with one another. Not that any of his other friends dared to shove him. He was a Malfoy after all.

"How does your mother cope with it?" Potter asked after a lengthy silence of staring out across the pond.

"With what?" Draco asked, stunned out of his musings.

"Being cooped up in that Manor all day. I think even I'd go out of my mind."

"Well she goes for walks in the gardens sometimes," Draco stated.

"And besides that? Does anyone even go and visit her? Or is it just the two of you keeping each other company?"

Shifting, he felt a little awkward as Potter's bright green eyes landed on him. He wasn't used to feeling so exposed. Ignoring Potter's question, he got up, brushed himself down and then inclined his head, "I'll see you next week then Potter."

"Malfoy wait!"

Draco didn't wait, nor did he stop and turn to the brunette. Instead he quickened his pace until he was safely out of the park and hurrying along briskly to the apparition point so he could get home.

As soon as he was inside the large doors, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Talking with Potter on a weekly basis was making him far too relaxed around the younger man. He could feel his guard slipping every time he was near him, and yet he couldn't stop himself. He had ached for this boy's friendship for years and now he was finally getting a taste of it, he didn't want to stop.

" _Draco dear is that you?"_ his mother's voice called from the front parlour.

"Who else is it going to be mother?" he ground out through clenched teeth, "I highly doubt the minister is going to let people knock on our doors anytime soon."

" _Don't be facetious, darling,_ " she called back, " _And come in here! You have a visitor."_

Draco frowned. Who would want to visit him? He felt his stomach clench tightly. Perhaps it _was_ the minister wanting to revise his sentence or the radius of his house arrest. Straightening himself up, his heels clicked as he moved from the coolness of the foyer and into the front parlour. His mother looked beautiful as ever, if a little tired from having done nothing all day, but it was his 'guest' that surprised him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked incredulously as he stopped just inside the doorway.

Potter smiled softly from where he was sat in an armchair by the fireplace, "I didn't want to cut our conversation short so I thought, instead of you coming to London all the time, I could come to you for a change."

Draco found himself speechless. Not five minutes ago they had both been in the park under the hot summer sun and now they were nestled away in the cool manor. The hair on the back of his neck stood up on end as he shifted from foot-to-foot. "You needn't have troubled yourself."

"It was no trouble at all," Potter smiled. Damn, his smile -albeit a little crooked -suited him.

"Mr Potter was just telling me about the park you two visit when you go up to London, Draco," Narcissa smiled up at him. He couldn't be mad and throw Potter out. Not now, after seeing how company was making his mother seem full of life again. "Why did you not tell me about it?"

"I guess I ... forgot about it."

Narcissa pursed her lips, clearly not believing it but deciding not to say anything about it. Instead she turned her attention back to Potter, "I do insist you stay for dinner, Mr Potter. It's been a long time since we've had company over for dinner and I'm sure the house elves are bored with nothing to do all day."

"Mother, I'm sure Potter has better things to do this evening than have dinner with us." He couldn't help the bitter tone in his voice, but he couldn't help the slight twinge of envy at the thought of Potter's life still being as interesting and brimming with entertainment than his own.

"Well truthfully, I didn't have any plans for this evening. I would have just been stuck at home having baked beans on toast or something equally pathetic," he turned back to catch Draco's gaze. His green eyes were soft as he said, "I'd love to stay for dinner."

"Excellent!" Narcissa clicked her fingers and a house elf appeared, its ears perked to attention. "Drippy we're having Mr Potter as a guest for tonight. Have a more sophisticated menu prepared for this evening."

"Oh no, Mrs Malfoy -"

"Narcissa," she interjected with a smile.

"N-Narcissa," Potter mumbled awkwardly, "Honesty, you don't need to make them go to all that trouble. My tastes are rather quite simple."

"Yes mother, it's true; Potter is more than content with most foods as long as there is treacle tart at the end of it."

Narcissa smiled and then turned her attention back to Drippy who was wringing her hands nervously. "Alright then, Drippy please prepare a nice meal with treacle tart for dessert."

"Yes mistress, Drippy is making treacle tart for Mister Harry Potter, sir. Right away, mistress!"

With a crack she disappeared.

"Draco darling why don't you show Mr Potter the gardens whilst the elves prepare dinner?" Narcissa suggested with a smile, "I need to go and sort myself out. I've been feeling rather drab all day."

"I think you look lovely, Mrs -er -Narcissa," Harry flushed a little.

Narcissa laughed -actually laughed -which startled Draco. It had been so long since he'd heard it. "He's such a charmer, isn't he Draco?" He felt his heart stir as Potter turned that brilliant smile onto him. Narcissa excused herself and went upstairs to her room, leaving Draco and Potter alone in the front parlour.

"So would you like to see the gardens?" he asked awkwardly trying to feel something other than his cheeks flaming up and his stomach churning awkwardly. Clearly it was hunger pains. He couldn't wait for dinner.

"Sure," Potter grinned and got up from the chair.

Draco turned and awkwardly escorted Potter down along the large, black marble hallway to the large ornate doors that led out to the stone balcony. The grass beyond gleamed brilliantly in the late afternoon sunlight as did the bluebird sky. Draco hadn't been out in the garden for a while as he opened the door, Potter walking out in front of him. They walked out onto the stone balcony, looking down onto the acres of brilliant green grass that held flowerbeds and an elegant carved stone fountain.

"It's a lot nicer here without all the Snatchers running around," Potter stated as he leaned over and casually sat himself on the stone barrier that stopped him plummeting the six foot drop to the floor below.

"Hilarious," Draco ground out with a glare at the brunette.

"Sorry," Potter said sheepishly, "I guess it's just strange. The only memories I have of your place are dark and morbid."

Draco nodded his head in understanding. He understood that. A lot of his own home memories were tarnished by the Dark Lord and his work. It was something he couldn't easily escape from. "Why did you come here, Potter?" he asked after a few moments of silence.

To his surprise, the brunette shrugged. "It seems like no one has even thought about how you two suffer from your sentences. I understand it's not meant to be all fun and games, but you two are so restricted I thought at the very least you would be able to have some visitors as long as they were monitored."

"Potter, we're not even allowed to have correspondence with Father despite him being locked up in isolation in Azkaban. Of course none of us would be treated fairly."

Potter frowned, clearly detecting upon the bitterness in Draco's voice. "I know. It must be difficult for both of you."

"It is," his voice was tight and clipped but he couldn't control it.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No," he turned to stare down at the brunette man in front of him, looking so out of place in front of the manor gardens dressed in threadbare jeans and a loose t-shirt. "I refuse to be indebted to you for more."

"You could always request it as part of the life-debt you know."

"Well I don't want to," Draco sighed heavily.

"Why not? Surely it's worthwhile?"

"In theory, yes, but no amount of power is going to sway the Wizengamot. And even if it did, I don't want to have the accusation that I've been brain-washing you to do my bidding."

Potter rolled his eyes, "Ironically, that's already happening and I've only been going to meet up with you in the park of the bookshop. Whatever evil plans you have must have a lot to do with feeding ducks."

"Perhaps I am trying to train the ducks to do my evil bidding," Draco stated sarcastically.

Potter snorted loudly. The blonde turned to frown at him. "Sorry," he laughed a little, "It's just the thought of you commanding an army of ducks in little army hats is just adorable."

"Eurgh," Draco groaned and turned away, his cheeks aching a little from trying to stifle the smile that was threatening to break onto his face.

A sharp crack made Potter jump, announcing Drippy's arrival. "Drippy is here to inform Mr Potter and Master Draco that dinner is being served in the dining room, yes!" With another crack, she was gone.

Potter slid of the balcony edge and straightened himself. He looked so under-dressed it made Draco's fingers itch to get him into something more suitable. "I guess we should join mother now," he stated tightly as he led the way back inside the manor and into the dining room.

Narcissa was already sat at the head of the table, dressed in lovely lilac robes trimmed with silver. Her hair gleamed in the low light as Draco took a seat on her left, Potter on her right. The dinner was simpler than what Draco used to eat, however a simply roast dinner with potatoes, chicken and vegetables was sometimes better than numerous meals with names no one could pronounce in English or in French. They drank mulled cider with their meal and Draco couldn't help but watch how much Potter ate, even if he did mind his manners and use the right knife and fork -much to Draco's surprise -and drank greedily from his goblet all the while having nothing but the grace of a good guest.

No one could think him a gluttonous freak even if they tried.

They kept the conversation light, mainly about daily things that had been happening now that the trials were officially over and most of the Death Eaters had been caught. Harry didn't go into much detail about why he was always walking around London and vaguely brushed upon the fact that he'd gotten his own little flat up London. He figured he'd might as well do something with his fortune, and that included having a nice enough place to call 'home' that was located in muggle London.

Draco felt a twitch of envy at the thought of Potter flourishing so well after the war, despite how inevitable it had been. However, he did also note how Potter steered clear from talking about Granger, Weasley and the Weaslette. What had gone on between them that was causing so much friction? He didn't voice any of these thoughts though. He was more than content to know that, even if it was temporary, Potter preferred his own company for the time being.

Later that evening, once the treacle tart dishes had been cleared away and Narcissa excused herself to do some reading, Draco took it upon himself to escort Harry to the front door of the manor. At the door, Harry turned to smile up at Draco. "Dinner was great."

"Thank you, Potter," Draco said quickly.

Blinking, Potter frowned, "What for?"

"Keeping me and mother company. I mean I know I've been seeing you these past few weeks but you're the first person mother has seen in a while."

Potter smiled softly, "That's alright. I'm more than happy coming by once in a while if you two ever get bored."

Draco smiled stiffly. The offer was very gracious, however no matter how far they had fallen, he wouldn't ever get so lonely just to ask Potter to come over for company. "Well I hope you have a pleasant evening -what's left of it anyway."

Potter shrugged, casting a cursory glance over his shoulder at the dark pathway that lead out to the outside world. "Well if you get bored just owl me."

"Are you sure you don't get bored, Potter?" Draco asked, surprised with the teasing tone of his voice.

To his surprise Potter gave him a small smile, "Sometimes. Good night Malfoy."

"Goodnight ... Potter."

With a crack Potter disapparated from bottom of the stone steps.

Draco sighed softly, the cool evening air making him shiver as he gently closed the front door and rejoin his mother in the front parlour.

The following morning he got a letter from the Minister of Magic declaring that they could write to his father.

* * *

 **Let me know what you think! x**


	4. Letters & Gratitude

**A/N: Here's another little update for you now that FF is working again!**

* * *

 **Chapter Three:**

 **Letters and Gratitude**

It took a lot of digging on Draco's part before he found the first letter that Lucius had sent them. He had a small cherry wood box that held all the letters from his father. They had already been in chronological order, so he didn't need to rifle through them to find the first one. The paper had yellowed with age and crinkled as he unfolded it to read by the bedside lamp. A wave of nostalgia rushed over him as he leaned back against the bedpost and began to read.

 _My son Draco,_

 _I do not know what you did or how you did it but we have been granted the ability to communicate with one another. All I know is that somehow the Potter boy is responsible. Admittedly, I'm not sure how I feel about your interaction with him, however enough about that. Tell me everything that has been going on with you and mother at the manor. I read your sentences in the Daily Prophet and though it seemed a little intense, all things considering your mother did very little for the Dark Lord; I understand that they merely wanted to take precautions. I don't agree with it at all, however there isn't much I can do._

 _Please reply as quickly as possible. You are my only eyes on the outside._

 _Your Father._

Draco felt a shiver run down his spine as he pressed the letter against his chest. His eyes had misted over and his bottom lip trembled. Seeker padded into the room and whimpered softly as he nudged the blonde man's jaw. "Do you think I should include a letter into the book too?" he asked as he ran his fingers through the dog's golden fur.

"Woof," Seeker responded.

Draco chuckled and shook his head, "Yeah you're right. I guess some originality and actual proof is better than telling them." Another 'woof' made him smile as he stretched his legs out and sighed. "Alright, alright bossy boots. Dinner time it is."

~0~

The insistent tapping on the window woke Draco early one morning. The August heat was burning in through the open curtains making the sheets stick to his body. He grimaced as he peeled himself from the inferno of his mattress. His body felt greasy as he shifted up into a sitting position, his legs hanging over the edge of the bed and dropping his head into his hands. He didn't care that the owl was probably exhausted and growing angry at being ignored. He hadn't slept well the previous evening, the heat lightning making him jerk wide awake every time he tried to doze off.

The tapping was getting worse and making his head throb. Growling with frustration he stood up and yanked the window open. "Give it here then you little git!" he snarled at the owl as he snatched the letter from its leg and all but threw it back out of the window.

He watched it bob out in the stiff air before he dropped his attention to the letter in his hand.

The handwriting wasn't from his father's which was unusual. As soon as the channel had been opened between the Malfoy's in the manor and his father in Azkaban, he barely had a day where he didn't speak with his father. Ironically, they seemed to speaking more so now than they did when Lucius had been at home.

However this was not his father's handwriting. It was Potter's.

Feeling his chest grow tight, he ripped open the envelope and unfolded the very brief letter.

' _Malfoy,_

 _Since I've been to the manor to keep you company, would you like to come to mine? It's due to rain this afternoon so if you get bored, here's a portkey to my flat._

 _~ Potter'_

It felt weird. He had rarely been over to his other friends' houses. It was one of the perks that he'd gotten with having Lucius as his father. They had always come to the manor.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he fiddled with the letter, debating on what to do. Judging by the light of the sky it was still really early, but he felt too awake to go back to sleep. Drawing a thin shirt on over his shoulders, he grabbed a book out of his personal bookcase and went over to the armchair by his fireplace. He called for Drippy and when she popped up he asked her to stoke the fire for him. Despite the humidity billowing in through the open window, he felt a little chilly.

Propping his feet up on the pouffé he reclined and propped the book open in his lap. He got himself lost in the inane text before him, the fire dwindling down as the sky lightened a little more with each passing hour. By the time it was ten o'clock in the morning, he was too awake and wired to keep reading. He felt restless as he put the book awake, extinguished the fire and went into the adjoining bathroom to get him ready for the day.

The cool water made him gasp out and shiver, but it was pleasant as he slathered himself with shower gel and scrubbed himself clean of the humidity and sweat that had clung to him since he'd woken up. He washed his hair and inhaled deep, wet breaths that helped to clear his mind and it felt like he could breathe easier.

As soon as he was finished, he took his time standing in the cool air in the marble bathroom. He shivered and ran his fingertips over his tight muscles. His skin prickled with goosebumps and he suddenly felt a pang of loneliness stab him. He felt a barrier spring up, isolating his brain from his emotions. He took shallow breaths and felt like his chest was filling with ice.

Shaking his head, he left the bathroom after combing his hair and brushing his teeth. He went to get dressed and picked out a pair of pressed black slacks, a crisp white shirt and a dark silver and black waistcoat. He probably looked far too formal, but it was one of his favourite outfits. He wore it whenever he got a chance. Once he was ready, he reached over to the envelope and pulled out a small keyring with a small lightning bolt dangling down. He barely had time to roll his eyes before there was a tug on his navel.

He grunted loudly as he spun to a stop in an unfamiliar hallway, stumbling back until he crashed against a blue painted door. "Merlin!" he exclaimed as he dropped his head back and drew in a deep breath. At the sound of footsteps, he straightened up and composed himself just as a barefoot Potter poked his head around a corner not even a meter away.

"Hey I thought I heard you," he grinned a little wider, "come on in, I was just making something to eat. You hungry?"

Draco stared at the brunette before nodding his head a little, "I can eat."

"Good!" Potter called back over his shoulder.

Draco stepped hesitantly into the flat, his body tense as he observed the place Potter now called 'home'. The living area was fairly open-planned with a walk-way that led into a kitchen and an eating area. The walls of the living area were white and a medium blue, dark sofa's and armchairs faced a square screen for some reason, and a wide dark wood bookcase stood in one corner. Moving photo's hung on the walls in neat lines.

Crossing over the plush rug, Draco gazed down at the photos; one was of the Golden Trio laughing and seemingly enjoying themselves, one was of two people he assumed were the late Potter's holding their baby son between them, another was of the same couple on their wedding day, a younger Sirius Black in the corner laughing and drinking wine with a less tired-looking Remus Lupin. The final photo was of Potter cradling a small baby in his arms.

Draco momentarily started when he was the baby's tuft of fluffy brown hair change to a bright turquoise as he wriggled against Potter's chest.

Was that ... his cousin?

"That's little Teddy Lupin," Potter's voice behind him made him jump and tense a little. Potter smiled softly, his head cocked to one side, "He's your cousin ... somehow."

Draco swallowed as Potter handed him a tall glass of water. His throat was suddenly dry and he gulped it down greedily. "Thanks," he murmured softly.

"No problem," Potter gestured for him to follow, "Come into the kitchen. Food's ready. It's only simple so don't worry. You won't mess your shirt up."

"I wasn't worried," he replied tightly.

He followed Potter into the kitchen and admired the black and white tiles on the floor as well as the warm honey colour on the walls. Ironically, Potter seemed to have decent taste in regards to interior design, more than Draco would have given him credit for. The food Potter served was a basic pasta dish and despite the heat outside on the streets, the flat was warm and the food smelled delicious. He suddenly felt very self-conscious about his shirt.

"I'm too formal, aren't I?" he asked in a subdued manner.

Potter quirked a small smile, "A little yes, but I think I like you this way."

"What way?"

"Your old self."

Draco blinked in surprise before frowning, twirling the fork between his fingers, "Somehow I seem to remember that my old self was a pretentious arsehole."

Potter nodded his head, "True. However, I can't picture you in a t-shirt and baggy jeans. You just seem to suit being decently dressed."

Draco felt oddly exposed as he shifted in his chair, idly eating the food before him. It was good he couldn't deny that. Potter was a decent cook. The pasta was 'al dente' the bacon was beautifully cooked and the creamy cheese sauce made his mouth water for more. Leaning back in the chair he frowned, "Okay, I need to ask; why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" Potter frowned over at him.

"This; inviting me over to your house, letting me and mother send letters to father in prison and generally being the goddamn nicest person I've spoken to in the last year!"

Potter barely blinked as the blonde seethed at him. Instead he placed his fork down and regarded Draco with a calm expression. "Look, I know you probably don't think a lot of me, or that I'm doing this to have one up on you, but I'm not. A lot has happened during and since the war and I honestly just ... I'm exhausted of fighting, of having grudges, of trying to be this strong heroic douche that people want me to be."

Draco scoffed and was a little surprised when Potter didn't react. Had he really grown up that much in the last year? He suddenly felt a little awkward.

"So where do I fit into all that?"

"I was wrong."

"You were? What about?"

Potter tilted his head to the side, "I was wrong in thinking that you couldn't change at all after everything that had happened. But when I saw you in the Room of Requirement ..." he paused, his eyes downcast, "I realised that you were just like me. You were young, you were scared and a lot of what you did, well, you weren't necessarily in control of it all."

Draco felt his throat run dry again. His fingers throbbed around the fork and his stomach twisted. No one had ever been that blunt to him, not really. It was strange that Potter seemed to be one of the few people who actually seemed to understand what he'd been through. "In what way were we alike?" he asked softly, his eyes on the half-eaten bowl of pasta in front of him. He couldn't look into Potter's eyes. Those eyes ... they had a magic all their own and he wasn't sure he wanted to witness said magic just yet.

"Voldemort threatened and manipulated you," Potter said, deftly ignoring the way Draco involuntarily flinched at the name. "And in more ways than one, Dumbledore manipulated me. I was his weapon; his poster boy for all that was good. He constantly lied and with-held information from me when I needed it the most. Especially in fifth year, I felt so powerless and isolated."

Keeping his head bowed, Draco felt the tight knot in his chest snap. Fifth year flashed behind his eyelids and his hand shook. Damnit, why could he not control his emotions? All this anger and loneliness hadn't been good for him; sadly he'd had no way to vent it so that left it all there at the back of his mind, simmering away. He clenched his jaw over and over again trying to dim the aggression inside his head. Finally, he exhaled and opened his eyes, "I'm sorry about the inquisitorial squad."

Potter cleared, whether he was shocked by the apology or how 'human' the blonde was being, Draco didn't know. "You were young. You wanted to achieve something. I was the head of Dumbledore's Army; you were head of the Inquisitorial Squad. See what I mean that we were practically two sides of the same coin?"

He had to admit that their similarities were adding up. Draco was a black pawn just like Potter had been a white one. "I see it," he stated, straightening up at the table, "However, you didn't deserve that slap Umbridge gave you. No teacher is allowed to assault a student like that."

"What could I have done?"

An idea sparked in Draco's head, "Wait ... When Granger said you'd both show her the weapon -what did you actually do?"

"What makes you think we didn't?" Potter asked slyly.

"Come on, Potter, even I know you're not that stupid."

"Your compliments touch me," Potter stated sarcastically before smiling. Draco thought he looked much better when he smiled. "We took her into the forbidden forest. Introduced her to Hagrid's baby brother."

Draco felt his stomach flip. "W-What? He had a baby brother?"

"Yeah ... A full-giant baby brother."

"Fuck," Draco's jaw went slack, his eyes wide as he stared into space. "But ... He would've been about sixteen feet tall!"

Potter nodded, his grin widening, "Oh trust me that introduction didn't go well. Especially when the centaurs came on the scene."

"OH God this should have been a photo in the Prophet! She never would have gotten back into power if the entire Wizarding World had seen that!" Draco couldn't help it as he started chuckling at the image in his head. Umbridge in disarray being carted off around the forest by a pack of aggressive centaurs -it was too much to handle!

To his surprise Potter joined in with the laughter. It definitely eased up some of the tension still thrumming between them as they calmed down and finished the rest of their food.

Once Potter had spelled the dishes clean -something Draco envied him for -he turned to Draco with a smile, "Shall I give you the grand tour?"

Draco cocked an eyebrow but didn't say how absurd it sounded. Instead he smiled stiffly and nodded. "Well it is over-due."

Potter rolled his eyes with a grin as he led the way out from the kitchen. He pointed down a hallway that ended in a door. "That room down there is the bathroom, so if you feel the urge to go -you can." They continued on into the large living area that had two doors leading off of it. Pointing to the left door he said, "That's the main bedroom which is where I sleep, and the door next to it is technically a spare room but at the moment I've been using it as a study."

"Aren't you going to show me inside?" Draco asked.

This time is was Potter to seem a little awkward. "Sure I guess." Pushing open the left door Draco was surprised to see a large room with soft biscuit coloured carpet and a warm burgundy colour on the walls. There was a matching bookcase off to one side with plenty of muggle books Draco noted with a wrinkle of his nose, a chest-of-drawers pushed up against one wall and a king-sized bed in the middle of the opposite wall. A wardrobe stood proudly in the corner opposite the bookcase. A large window opened up to a breath-taking view of London and the Thames.

"Wow you really lucked out with the view."

Potter nodded, a sheen of pride glowing around him. "Thanks. Do you want to see next door?" Draco nodded and followed Potter to the neighbouring room.

The study itself still had a decent sized bed pushed up against one wall, but the rest of the room was taken up by a large desk, yet another bookcase only this time filled with wizarding textbooks, law books and biographies from various famous wizards, one of them being the scandalous one Rita Skeeter had written about Dumbledore. It looked rather battered. Possibly a second or even third hand copy. A small fireplace stood off to one side. It was tiny in comparison to the one in the living area.

An Order of Merlin First Class hung on the wall along with a framed medal for Heroism and saving the wizarding world.

"So what do you do in here?" he asked as looked down to observe Potter.

"I write letters to people, read up on the Prophet and new theories being made in the wizarding world to see if they're of any help. I've also been looking into travel hot-spots for young wizards around the country and across Europe."

"Whatever for?" Draco asked, pausing in fingering the spine of a large textbook on dragons from the bookshelf.

"I wanted to go travelling for a year, remember?" Potter stated as he stepped over to the desk and re-organized an unruly pile of letters and placed them into a drawer. "I need to do some more research on places I want to go, but it shouldn't take me too much longer."

"When do you plan on leaving for this little excursion?" Draco asked.

"I was thinking some time at the start of September. That way everyone goes back to work and school and I won't have too much to deal with. Everyone else will be busy and the rates for port-keys will go down, as will the prices of muggle travel."

Draco turned and frowned at him, his arms folded across his chest. "You really are having troubles with the Weasley clan and Granger aren't you?"

Potter tensed but nodded, "Yes well the sooner Ron starts auror training and the sooner Hermione starts her job at the Ministry, the sooner I can have an excuse not to speak to them right now."

"I never thought you three would fall out over something so petty."

"I guess from Ron's perspective it wasn't petty," Potter stated rubbing the back of his neck.

"Regardless, arguing intensely with one of his life-long friends because said friend DOESN'T want to shag his sister is rather petty. Most men everywhere would rejoice about this information."

Potter sighed, tipping his head back to show just how feathered his hair was now. Draco had to clench his fingers to not run them through the dark mass. "I know. I think he was just shocked really. I kissed Ginny in the middle of a _battle_. It seemed like the thing to do at the time."

"And now you've come to your sense?" Draco asked with an amused smirk.

This time Potter did laugh a little as he raked his own fingers through his hair, "Yeah I guess you could say something like that happened. It's been a long year since all of that. They kept hounding me, saying it was because Ginny hadn't graduated yet. Well, she graduated two months ago. I still don't want to date her."

"Is there a particular reason?" Draco asked unable to hide his amusement any longer.

Potter rolled his eyes, "Let's just say she's not really my type."

"Ah right," Draco nodded in mock understanding, "She's too butch for you."

Potter turned to him with a strange expression on his face. He simply shook his head, "Whatever the reason is, I'm not comfortable talking about it. So ... just forget it."

Draco bristled a little but tried his best not to take offense. Yet. Standing to his full height, he felt as though he had out-stayed his welcome in Potter's flat. "Alright then. Well I guess I should be getting on home then."

"Well ... I mean you don't have to go right away."

"No, I have offended you so I think its best I leave before either one of us says something that we might regret." He picked a piece of lint from his cuffs and, although he wasn't looking forward to going back to the manor with the dark walls, cold atmosphere and barren rooms, he doubted staying with Potter and the tension was a decent substitute.

Potter sighed and bowed his head, "It's just a difficult subject for me still. I wanted this year away from everything to get my head straight and sort some things out."

"Well at least you can still get away from it all," Draco stated rather bitterly. He didn't want to seem like an arsehole but it still haunted him that, after all the trials had been said and done, he was still restricted in everything he did, said, or tried to cast.

They stood in silence for a while before Potter murmured, "You could always come with me."

Draco whipped around so fast he was sure he could spontaneously apparate if he'd wanted to. "What? You know I can't. I can't go anywhere without some idiot auror trailing after me!"

"OH is that who that was?" Potter asked with wonder, "I did think he was a pretty shit stalker."

"He is," Draco sneered, "But that still doesn't mean that I can come along with you. Even if I did what about mother? She'd be alone even more than what she is now. She'd be bored out of her mind and then what? She'd resent me."

"You could send her pensieve memories by post and show her the world. Write her letters and postcards and help her experience it all without even leaving the house. She can have a lot of it and not even breech her house arrest regulations."

"You wouldn't want my company for a prolonged period, Potter. In case you didn't notice, I'm not a very nice person."

"I don't believe that," Potter stated as he took a step closer to him. "I think you've grown a lot more in the time since Voldemort died than anyone else I know. It annoys me that you're so restricted and yet you put on a brave face and I think you deserve come compassion for once."

Draco felt his face twist into something akin to annoyance. He didn't need Potter's pity of charity. Of course the idea was appealing but that didn't mean he was going to jump when the brunette man said so. "Thank for the offer Potter but I think I'll decline. As much as I'd love to be your next charity case, I still have some dignity left."

"This wouldn't be charity, Draco," Potter said his first name in a whisper, so softly it made Draco shiver a little as he stopped in the doorway. "It would be two people travelling and enjoying a year away from stress and drama and the goddamn Daily Prophet." Draco wasn't convinced and it must have shown because Potter's shoulder's slumped a little lower in defeat. "Okay, fine. I can see when I've been beaten."

"That's good to know you've learned things too," Draco stated a little harshly than he'd intended. He watched as Potter tensed a little but didn't comment on it. "Even if you could get such a pardon, why would you want me to travel with you?"

Potter shrugged, "I've enjoyed getting to know you. This new, mature, refined Draco compared to the insolent brat at school. I'd like to get to know you again."

"You never knew me at all!" Draco hissed out.

"Then we can use the year to get to know one another properly," Potter countered with a determination gleaming in his eyes. Merlin, those _eyes_!

Draco felt his head spinning. He didn't know what to think. Swallowing he looked back up at Potter and sighed, "If you're truly serious about the offer, I shall think about it and let you know."

Potter nodded, "Alright. That's all I can ask of you."

"How am I supposed to get home?" Draco asked.

"The port-key you used. Touch it again and you can come and go from here as often as you please. I've altered the wards to let you in."

Draco fixed him with a perplexed stare. "Why?"

Potter gave a small smile, "We've both grown up a lot. I don't want us to be rivals anymore." He crossed the room and reached out a hand in front of him, "I want us to be friends."

Staring down a the tanned hand extended towards him, Draco felt his stomach flip. It was what he'd always wanted since that first day in Diagon Alley. He had brimmed with excitement since he was a child with the knowledge that he would -no matter what -always have ended up in the same school year as Potter. Slipping his own hand out of his pocket, he reached out and -with trembling fingers -grasped Potter's hand in his own. Two swift shakes and just when he was about to let go -he didn't.

Potter's skin was warm and a little rough whereas Draco's was smooth.

He let Potter's hand drop, shifted and cleared his throat before nodding his head, "Friends we are then."

As soon as he'd returned home Draco felt the butterflies finally explode in his stomach. The imprint of Potter's hand was still tingling in his own, like a ghost. His mother had retired to bed for an early evening and Draco was sure he was in the mood to do the same. However, as soon as he'd changed into a loose pair of pyjama bottoms he settled down at his desk and quickly penned a letter to his father explaining the details of what had happened that day and whether or not it would be a good idea, considering the position it would put his mother in.

He watched his owl fly off into the evening sky and closed the window lest a chill sneak into his bedroom.

As the last of the red sun was drained from the sky, Draco turned his back to the window and slipped into his large bed and curled up under the blankets. It had been one hell of a day and his mind was still reeling from the offer Potter had presented him with. It was indeed very tempting. Breathing deeply he drifted off to sleep with the images of beaches and flying brooms and continental towns blurring together in his mind.

The following morning he awoke to a scrap of paper from his father. Masquerading as a letter the over-all tone of the note was very clear to Draco. His father was simply telling him to, ' _GO FOR IT!_ '

Draco pondered the letter all morning. Perhaps he would go after all.

* * *

 **A/N: Would love to know how you think the story is going so far! x**


	5. Reasons Why

**A/N: Hopefully you're not all angsty for this update!**

* * *

 **Chapter Four:**

 **Reasons Why**

For the first time since their impromptu trip to Blackpool Draco woke up not feeling as though the weight of the world resting on his chest. Seeker had slept at the foot of the bed, his warmth radiating through the duvet. It felt nice and reassuring. For a moment he allowed himself to believe that Harry was in the kitchen and cooking their breakfast and humming along to the muggle radio on the counter. He stretched out and flexed his muscles before sighing and pushing himself up a little higher on the pillows.

Seeker eyes him lazily from the floor, his own breathing still slow as he reclined in the small patch of sunlight filtering in through the curtains.

He ran a hand down his face and couldn't help but almost look forward to the day ahead of him. He was planning to see Hermione and Ron later in the afternoon to update them on Harry. If they behaved themselves he would even allow them to visit Harry in the hospital. Despite being close with him at one point, they had lost their privilege to see him with all their petty arguments and even refusal to treat Harry as a human being. He was looking forward to it because they had been hounding him recently; almost demanding that he let them see him. Ron had even threatened to go to the Prophet and make them paint him in a bad light.

Draco had dared him to do it. As a result ... Nothing. There was never any article about how cruel or sadistic he was being by not letting Harry's life-long friends come and see him. The reason? Because he could turn it back on them just the same and reveal the truth of whom really were the cruel ones.

The fact that they knew that showed that they had some brains in their thick skulls.

"Do you think we should get up, boy?" he asked over the edge of the bed as Seeker whimpered and rolled over onto his side his large sorrowful eyes peering up at him. "Yeah breakfast sounds good to me too."

If anyone had told Draco ten years ago that he would start most days by talking to a golden retriever, he would have scoffed and told them that Malfoy's don't talk to animals. Clearly Harry had been a good influence on him.

As soon as breakfast had been eaten, Draco quickly showered and dressed and then fastened a lead to Seeker's collar. "You ready for a walk up London, buddy?" he asked as he ruffled the dog's golden flanks. Seeker wagged his tail energetically. Maybe he thought they were going to the hospital to see Harry. He'd be disappointed but then again what else could he do?

Grabbing his keys off the table near the door, they left.

The cafe they were meeting up was in muggle London, not too far from the bookshop where Draco and Harry used to frequent all those years ago. As they walked by it, Draco felt a tug on his heartstrings. It really hadn't changed except for a lick of paint on the windows and door. Luckily, the cafe was pet friendly. Draco opted for a table outside anyway and ordered a black tea and raspberry ice cream while he waited. Seeker got some dog biscuit brought from home and a slyly resized bowl that Draco filled with water. Seeker nestled under his chair and started to drink, the warm sunshine peeking at the from between the leaves of a tree that shaded their table.

"Did we really have to meet here?" Hermione's disappointed voice groused, jerking Draco out of his musings as he idly flicked through that morning's copy of the Prophet. Seeker gave a short growl from under his chair.

"To make sure you can't pull a wand on me? Of course we did," Draco snapped, curling his lip as Hermione huffed again and all but slammed her handbag on the table and sliding into a chair opposite him. Ron followed suit, looking as tightly wound as a spring.

A waitress came over and asked if they wanted anything. Hermione ordered a cappuccino and Ron ordered the same.

"Now, do you want to tell me why you suddenly wanted to meet up? It's been a month, you realise?" Draco started, keeping his voice level.

"Yes we realise that," Hermione stated in a clipped tone, "But with the Minister passing new laws for magical creatures, I have been under a lot of stress to organize the proposals."

"And you?" Draco asked, turning his sharp gaze to Ron.

The redhead didn't bristle like he could have done, once upon a time, but he did clench his jaw tighter. "Things have been pretty hectic. It's summer, thieves get restless."

"And I'm sure an auror of your calibre would be able to get a couple of hours off every week to go and at least look-in on his friend."

This time Ron did bristle but didn't say anything.

They sat in silence for a little while until Hermione, in a much softer tone, spoke up, "So how _is_ he fairing?"

Draco shot her a look but refrained from snapping out at her. He sighed softly, "He's doing a little better. His healer said that there have been signs of improvements in the last couple of days."

"When was the last time you went to see him?" Ron asked.

"I went to see him last night. I didn't get home until about eleven," he stated. He'd stayed a lot longer than usual, reading through the first few chapters of the book he'd written. Maybe reading the book was helping Harry come closer out of the coma. Wishful thinking obviously and he didn't want to mention it to the other two, but even so. He didn't need a lecture on how stupid he was.

Hermione furrowed her brow, "Why would you stay so late when you have Seeker to look after?"

"I have charms in place to take care of him if I come home late," he said matter-of-factly. "He was fine. Hence why he's come out with me today. To get some extra exercise and fresh air."

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed as their drinks came. She thanks the waitress and stirred a sugar into her cup before taking a long sip. "Look, we didn't come here to talk about how you treat your pet," there was a bitter edge to her voice that Draco did his best to ignore. He did that a lot around Hermione, he realised. Ignored how annoying she could be. "We came here to talk about the visitation rights to Harry."

"Okay," Draco reclined in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm listening."

"I want us and the Weasley family to have access to visiting Harry. It isn't right that you've stopped us from seeing him."

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but you were the ones who couldn't see past your own ignorance to give a damn about Harry's well-being," he sat a little straighter in his seat, "As long as the healers were around he was fine. Regardless of their prejudices and personal opinions from after the war. You know, grudges and everything else, despite the fact that they have taken a Hippocratic Oath to do whatever is in the patients' well-being."

"None of them stopped us from seeing Harry!" Hermione protested.

"No," Draco agreed, "But they tried to stop me from seeing him."

"So what? Your revenge is that we can't go and see him because they're restricting you?" Ron sneered. It really didn't suit him.

"Don't be insolent," Draco curled his upper lip, "I just feel that if I, his fiancé, can't see him, then why should you, or Hermione or any of the Weasley's go and see him when you've done nothing but distance yourselves from him since after the war?"

"We're his family!" the redhead snapped.

"You were _like_ his family," Draco corrected, "There's a big difference. Especially when he doesn't want to consent to a pseudo-incestuous relationship with your little sister. Most men would be grateful for such a decision from their best friend. But not you." He leaned a little closer over the table, "You made him feel alienated. As soon as he told you he was no longer interested in Ginny, you all distanced yourselves. You, because he'd offended your sister and your narrow-minded family. And you," he turned his cold gaze to Hermione who winced; "Because you didn't want to cause friction between you're boyfriend and your best friend. Somehow, that meant nodding your head so as not to cause Ron any grief."

Hermione pursed her lips. She clearly knew that Draco was right. She swallowed and sighed softly, "What's happened has happened. That still doesn't give you the right to dictate who gets to see Harry."

"No one said anything about dictating. It's about _deserving_ to see him. After the stress you caused him do you really think he'd want you to visit him right now?" he kept eye-contact with Hermione until she broke it, dipping her head and toying with her drink.

"Who gave you the right to make decisions for Harry anyway?" Ron ground out, his ears tinging pink.

This time Draco felt his lips turn up into a knowing smirk as he lazily dropped his hand down and caressed Seeker's fur. "There is so much you don't know about your so-called best friend."

~0~

"Are you sure you're okay with this Mother?" Draco asked as he and Harry browsed the sparse collection of books left in the library of Malfoy Manor. Narcissa was sitting by the fireplace, watching them with amusement in her clear grey eyes.

"Of course I'm alright with it Draco. In a couple of months I will be allowed some more freedom into the outside world, just like you were. I'll be fine. Just make sure you do send some memories and thoughts back to me so I can see how much you're enjoying yourself. Oh, and -what were those things? Postcards?"

Harry nodded with a smile as he came over to the table with a piece of parchment in his hand. "I've been trying to make a list of the places Draco and I both want to go and trying to make a route across Europe that won't be too taxing for us."

"May I have a look?" Narcissa asked as Harry unfolded the list and the map of Europe he'd photocopied in a muggle newsagents. On the map were little gold stars inked onto the cities and towns they had wanted to visit. "Well this is certainly going to keep you both busy," she mused lightly as she studied the map.

Harry smiled as he looked at the map. "Well we will have an entire year to keep ourselves occupied."

"And you're sure you and Draco will be able to make such a trip without one of you coming home in a body bag?" she asked in a soft tone, though the concern clearly shone in her eyes.

Harry kept his face straighten a little, "Honestly Mrs. Malfoy? I'm not expecting miracles. I'm just in a place right now where I need to branch out on my own and make my own decisions on who I want to be friends with and who I want to spend time with. At the moment, Draco fits into both of those categories."

"So you won't get bored of him when he doesn't need your help any longer?" she asked a little curtly.

This time Harry's face did become blank. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Malfoy, but regardless of what you or anyone else thinks, I do not abandon my friends as soon as they no longer need me. In all truthfulness I don't think Draco is the one who needs my help. I feel like, right now, it's the other way around. I haven't had proper company in over three months and when I have it has been strained. Your son has helped to fill that emptiness a little bit."

Narcissa tilted her head to the side, "I just don't enjoy seeing my son getting hurt. I've had enough of witnessing that for one lifetime."

"Believe me, ma'am, I don't want to see him hurt any more than he has been already," Harry replied sagely.

Sighing softly, she nodded her head and leaned back a little in her chair, "Just make sure that you two get back in one piece."

Inclining his head, Harry replied, "We both will, don't worry."

Neither of them seemed to realise that Draco had been hidden behind the nearest bookshelf, straining to listen intently to their conversation. He felt like a stranger in his own home. His mother worried about him more than she really needed to. Potter was willing to be a decent friend to Draco for no other reason than because he was lonely. For some reason this made him feel unusual. There was a squirming in his gut that didn't belong there. It made him feel light-headed and as though the floor was starting to spin.

After a little while he crept out from his hiding place and went to settle down at the small table with Po - _Harry_ -and his mother, and starting getting involved in the proper planning of their trip. He couldn't help but feel a weight shift off of his shoulders as he stared down at the map and bickered with Harry about which route to travel and what order they should visit the countries in.

"I still think we need to start at the furthest country and work our way back to England," Harry stated as he tapped the end of his quill against the parchment.

"But then we are going to be too exhausted to appreciate the elegance of Paris!" Draco protested.

"What's so special about Paris?" Harry asked with a frown.

Draco felt his jaw go slack. "The question should be, Harry, why are you so against Paris when you haven't even been?"

Harry simply shrugged, "I just want to be able to say I travelled and appreciated things further than Paris. And you've already said you've been there countless times. So let's go somewhere new."

Narcissa watched, amused, as Draco's cheeks tinted pink. "Fine, but I still think that there's no point in going to Thailand."

"Why not? I've never been. Have you?" Harry furrowed his brow. At Draco's clenched jaw, the brunette shook his head, "We can at least go for a day-trip. We don't have to stay there."

Draco felt his shoulders slump. He wouldn't sigh, not in front of his mother. "Very well. We'll make it a day-trip, but that is it." He was putting his foot down and that was final. The last thing he needed was to get his wand stolen in somewhere as 'loose' as Thailand.

Harry rolled his eyes before smiling as he ducked behind his dark fringe and went about scribbling a few more notes down onto the parchment.

Later that evening after Narcissa had retired to her room, Draco and Harry retired to the blonde man's bedroom where an elf stoked the fire and poured them each a glass of Goblin's Gin to nurse as the sun disappeared below the horizon. They had finalized the general plans and Draco was going to leave the finer details up to Harry, as he was not allowed to do any preparations to leave the country. Harry had assured him that he was speaking to Kingsley the following day to demand a revised status on Draco's current traveling restrictions so that they could travel Europe together.

That only left one thing that they needed to talk about before they set anything in stone.

"So how do you plan on breaking the news to Granger and Weasley?" Draco asked as he rubbed the tip of his forefinger around the rim of his glass. A low note called out into the air.

Harry hummed softly to himself. "I know I should tell them, but I don't have the energy to deal with their ridicule. You'd think after everything we'd all been through, they'd let me make some decisions for myself."

Draco couldn't help but feel a little smug. "Unless they physically restrain you, P-Harry, then there really is nothing they can say that would keep you here."

Shrugging, he said, "I know that, but I wouldn't want to leave when they start an argument."

"We have owls, you realise? You could easily resolve anything via letters if they're too busy to pay you proper attention." He knew he sounded a little bit mean but he couldn't help himself. If Harry really wanted to do some emotional growing then he needed to take the time away from his narrow-minded posse and actually go out and experience the world, with or without Draco.

"They would give me grief about having you join me," Harry stated simply.

"It's none of their business."

"They're my friend; they're allowed to be concerned."

"Concerned, yes," Draco agreed, inclining his head, "However, when their fears are rather unfounded and they belittle you with their ideologies, it becomes rather insulting, doesn't it?"

Harry didn't say anything straight away. The firelight caught his frown and reflected in his glasses. He suddenly looked a lot older, as though the war had aged him without anyone around him realising. Draco couldn't help but stare. Before him sat the saviour of the wizarding world and all said saviour wanted to do was take a time-out, away from the world he'd saved, and find out who he was outside of the lime-light.

Oddly enough, Draco found himself understanding the need.

"I guess they just want to know I'm safe," Harry murmured hollowly.

"What makes you think you wouldn't be?" the blonde found himself asking.

"Because you'd want revenge. And apparently I'm a roll-over when it comes to dying."

Blinking, Draco slumped a little in his chair. He had heard so many rumours about what had happened that night in the forest. He'd ignored all the rumours because he'd seen Harry come to life in Hagrid's arms. He'd seen it! Anyone saying otherwise had been filed away in his head as a moron.

"No one else could have done what you did that night," Draco stated soberly.

"What you mean?" Harry blinked in confusion.

"No one else could have gone into that forest and faced the Darkest Wizard of all time. You didn't even fight him. You just stood there, in front of him and everyone else, and closed your eyes." He looked up at Harry and fixed him with a firm gaze, "You'd accepted Death. You had accepted your fate and now look at you. You've not only lived but you have _survived_ through a war. As far as they were concerned Granger and Weasley had said their goodbye's to you. Why the Weaslette got so emotional when your body came back I don't know," he scoffed with a flourish of his hand, "As far as they knew you were dead. End of."

"You weren't any the wiser," Harry murmured.

"Oh, I know. Do you know how relieved I felt when I saw you get back up? I was amazed. I still am. You gave us all the strength to carry on fighting. However, what amazes me even more is that since you have lived through all of that and actually know what it's like to die, your friends can't get off your back because for the first time in your life, the life you live is your own to do with what you want and they don't like it."

"They're concerned for me. I understand that."

"Yes but you have had eighteen years of doing what everyone else thinks is best for you. You need some independence and, sadly, you won't get that from hanging around the Burrow all summer with the Weaslette making gooey eyes at you."

Harry didn't respond straight away. They sat in silence, both nursing the last of their drinks. The sky outside had gone black hanging around the manor and small stars twinkled just beyond the glow of the fire. Eventually Harry rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "I suppose I do need to tell them my final decision, don't I?"

"Only if you don't want them to continuously worry about you," Draco agreed.

"That's going to happen either way at this point." Another sigh from the brunette before he looked up to meet Draco's gaze, "Will you come with me?"

Draco blinked, surprised. Where had that come from? Harry wanted him to go and see Granger and Weasley? Something at the back of his mind told him it wasn't a good idea but after everything Harry had done for him over the last month or so he felt somewhat obligated to return the favour. "Do you think I'll make it back alive?" he asked with a wry smile.

Harry returned it, a bead of relief gleaming in his eyes, "I guarantee it."

That's how he found himself sitting outside a small cafe the following afternoon, a ridiculous auror at a Starbucks across the street watching him, with Harry at his side and Granger and Weasley sat across from them, identical expression of confusion and disgust on their faces. It hadn't been pleasant watching Harry strive to be upright and straight-forward with his reasoning for taking Draco with him. Weasley had even stated, rather aggressively, that Ginny had made several offers to go travelling with Harry that he had refused. Draco listened to Harry reason that he needed time away from everyone and everything he knew and loved before the war.

Ron had been angry that his best friend was suddenly in the company of a Slytherin. He demanded to test Harry for curses, jinxes and potions. Thankfully both Harry and Hermione had glared at him hard enough to bypass the demand.

"Harry I just don't understand why you want to take him all of a sudden. You've known each other for little over a month, and that's completely ignoring the previous seven odd years of history with one another. I just don't understand it ... Why would you take him with you instead of us? Instead of Ginny?" Hermione asked, a frown marring her features.

Harry schooled his features into a casual mask, "Because I want to experience something different. You two have your lives planned right now. I'm not going to disrupt that for you. I need a chance to do something for myself. If taking Draco turns out to be a wrong choice then I need to make that decision on my own based on what happens _now,_ not based on what he said five years ago."

"But Harry ..."

"I'm sorry Hermione," he cut across somewhat sharply, "I know you all want to see me happily settled with Ginny. I get that, I do. But I don't _want_ that. I'm nineteen; I've only just graduated last year. I defeated Voldemort -I think I deserve a break from all the drama right now. There's a whole world out there I haven't seen; shouldn't I get to see some of it, seeing as I helped save it?"

"Well yes but ..."

"What do you mean away from all the drama?" Ron butted in. "Are you saying there would be drama between you and Ginny?"

"Yes," Harry stated stiffly. "Her track record shows waterworks and drama and fighting whenever something doesn't go her way. No offense Ron, but Ginny needs to do some serious growing-up if she thinks riding a broom and fighting well is going to win me over. I'm not saying she has to impress me I'm just saying that right now, I don't love Ginny. I can't promise that I will, either."

"Well why not? What's wrong with her?"

"She's like my sister, Ron. It'd be like if you and I started going out. It just wouldn't work. And look! We haven't even dated properly, and we're already fighting about it!"

Ron opened his mouth to say something else, but a hand on his elbow from Hermione silenced him. "No, Ron, he's right. If he needs time to find himself then we should be able to give him that, right?"

"But with the ferret?"

"I have a name," Draco stated coldly. The first words out of his mouth seemed to silence them. He'd been there as physical support. He'd been so still and quiet they seemed to have forgotten about him. "You need to realise that Harry is an adult. You two get to go off and make your own decisions, so why not let him?"

Ron made an indignant noise and Hermione looked as though she wanted to protest, but neither of them had anything to say. It was true; they had both graduated and sought jobs in the ministry almost instantly. Harry, however, seemed to have drifted once the majority of the important trials had come and gone. Finally, Hermione sighed, "I suppose you have a right to go out and do something for yourself," she stated bitterly. "I just want you to know that, Molly will be expecting you to pop in for Christmas at least. So you may have to come home for that."

Harry inclined his head, "I'm sure I can work that into our plans."

With pursed lips, Hermione nodded, "Then I suppose we'll see how things go and take it from there."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Harry stated as he leaned back in his chair.

Draco watched the exchange with fascination but didn't offer any more thought to the matter. Everything that needed to be said had been, and there was nothing more to it.

~0~

"Are we really going to do this?" Ron scoffed bitterly, "The see-how-it-goes thing? That's so old and hardly applies to hospital visits."

"Considering the spouse or partner is in charge of the wards around the patients room, I can safely say that yes, it does apply as of this afternoon."

"So what? We need to come to you whenever we decide we want to see our best friend?" the redhead sneered.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Draco replied coolly. "If you cared that much you would have seen him of your own accord before now. Therefore, I shall grant you permission when and if you actually ask for it."

"Okay, so how would we go about asking?" Hermione chimed in, "Do we just owl you whenever we're free and arrange it for that time?"

"Yes," Draco said slowly, "But I will need to be there too."

"What for?"

"Until I can trust any of you near Harry or to visit him willing on a regular basis, as friends should, then I want to be present to over-see anything that goes on." He reclined back in his chair, "If the tables were turned, I'd have to get a court order with thirteen auror in the room just to tell him the colour of the bloody sky outside his window."

"This is a complete abuse of your power!" Ron snapped.

"Good, I should hope so!" Draco retorted heatedly, his eyes glaring daggers. "For months I have tiptoed around the both of you, and everyone else, being ignored and brushed aside because you all know what's best for Harry more than me. You all abused your power over him and look what's happened. Well guess what? You're not in charge anymore. He trusts me to make decisions for him. Not you, not Hermione, and certainly no one else in that family of yours. _Me_."

Ron's face had practically turned red and Hermione's lips were pressed into such a thin line, he was sure her jaw would shatter. "You're out of line, Draco," she hissed.

"Then prove me wrong and actually visit him," he retorted.

He was done. He'd come to say what he needed to say and that was it. They could visit, not visit, it wouldn't matter to him. He was only doing this because he wanted Harry to wake up and still have his friends. If he had it his way, it wouldn't be much of an issue. Unfortunately, he wasn't about to make every decision for Harry. As long as those two got their acts together and paid their comatose friend some actual consideration he would eventually relent and let them have visiting rights of their own accord.

That time, however, was not now. They needed to take time out of their busy lives, sit down and have a serious think about whether or not they wanted Harry in their lives anymore. Until they made that decision it wasn't Harry whose trust they needed to learn to regain. It was going to take a very long time but he was prepared to wait.

After-all, he knew a little something about earning trust. More than they could ever know.

* * *

 **A/N: Feedback would be lovely!**


	6. Packing & Pancakes

**A/N: I only just realised I haven't updated in eleven days! APOLOGIES!**

* * *

 **Chapter Five:**

 **Packing and Pancakes**

"So we're really doing this?" Draco asked, frowning down at his open trunk. It was staring up at him from the bed, the only things packed was a small box filled with varying styles of shoes, shrunken with charms of course, and another small box with matching belts. The rest was hanging up in his wardrobe.

"Well just take some casual clothes. We might be doing a lot of walking around so you don't want too many fancy things," Harry's voice called out from the other side of the room where he was scanning through the books on the shelf for anything useful to take.

Draco grimaced and dropped his head back to the gaping trunk beneath him. This wasn't going well at all. They had a couple of days until the official start of their 'Gap Year' as Harry insisted on calling it. There were too many places to visit before Christmas, how was he meant to know what to pack? A lot of the muggle places they were going to visit. Harry had packed nothing but muggle clothes and maybe, just maybe, a formal pair of wizarding robes just in case. Regardless, he was starting to feel as though this trip was going to chew him up and spit him out.

"Are you sure you want me to go on this trip with you?" he asked as he took another pristine shirt out of his trunk.

"Yes I'm sure," Harry insisted for the umpteenth time that week, "I didn't have a confrontation with my friends just so you can wimp out now. So you're coming whether you like it or not."

Draco grumbled but didn't let on to the swell of happiness the momentarily made him feel ten pounds lighter. "Fine but we're leaving in about... Ten hours and I still don't know what to take."

Harry glanced over at him and frowned, "Okay so just take a few things and leave room for souvenirs and I'm sure they'll be clothes to buy out there."

"We don't even know where 'there' is!"

"Merlin I hope you're not this annoying when we get on the plane," Harry grumbled to himself.

Draco whipped around and looked at Harry like he'd grown a second head. "WHAT? " he snapped, "You don't seriously think I'm going to fly on one if those things!"

Rolling his eyes, Harry ignored him for a little while. "We already agreed. How is it any less terrifying than swearing your safety to a broom?"

Draco glowered at Harry before he clamped his mouth shut and turned away from him. He refused to accept the logic. Despite how flawless it truly sounded. With a sigh he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He couldn't believe that in less than ten hours he was going to be fastening himself into one of those flying muggle death traps. He shuddered at the thought of it all. Was he crazy? What if they crashed and he didn't have his wand? What if they got on the wrong plane? What if they landed somewhere they had no intention of being? He wrung his hands out of sight of Harry before sighing. "It's just ... It's such an inelegant way to travel."

"I can assure you, Draco, that the trains aren't much better."

Draco was about to protest that trains were very comfortable, thank you very much, when a knock on the door drew them both out of their bickering. Narcissa smiled in at them, her blonde hair scraped back into a bun at the nape of her neck as she edged into the room with a smile on her mouth, "How is the packing going, you two?"

"As well as can be expected, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry grinned knowingly over at Draco before taking a couple of books from the shelf.

"Oh dear," she looked over at her son who was too busy scowling at Harry to notice, "I do hope you're not being fussy, darling. Travelling is exhausting work and you may not get to stay in lavish hotels for the entire trip."

"What?" he asked, his attention snapped to her, "I refuse to bed-down in some hostel like a heathen, Potter!" he growled over at the brunette.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Are you going to be this merry for the entire journey? Look we will be staying in hotels, alright, so just stop worrying over nothing."

Narcissa smiled over at the younger boy who was neatly packing some books into Draco's 'hand-luggage'. She still couldn't get her head around the fact that her son had already been granted the permission by the Minister to go on this little expedition, the only clause being that he had to remain within fifty yards of Harry at all times. Somehow, she didn't think that was going to be an issue for either of them.

Since the war had ended and the year of trails had finally come to an end, she couldn't help but feel a little disorientated by the world around her. Her son was growing past the differences he had once shared with Potter and was now going on a holiday with him. Naturally, they would both be back for Christmas, but judging from the snippets she'd heard of the Weasley's current oppressive treatment of Potter, she didn't hold out much hope for a warm welcome from them.

"When are you two due to leave for the um ... airport?" she asked, stumbling over the last word and inevitably breaking the silence.

Harry cast a quick ' _Tempus_ ' and relaxed a little, "We have plenty of time Mrs. Malfoy. The plane won't be leaving until 9AM. We'll need to be there two hours in advance, but other than that we're good for time."

Smiling with some measure of relief, Narcissa straightened up some more, "Well in that case don't be too much longer. I shall get the house elves to prepare some dinner for us. You can attend to the last of the packing later."

"Oh no Mrs. Malfoy you don't need to -"

Narcissa held up a hand to cut him off, "Honestly, Mr. Potter, I insist. It's the least I can do considering what you, in turn, are doing for us."

"Mrs. Malfoy I'm really not -"

"Nonsense, Mr. Potter. You are helping Draco regain some freedom, something he hasn't had in an exceedingly long time, and by a vague extension, me as well. I hope I can also share some of these wonderful things when Lucius is finally allowed visiting rights. He would surely enjoy some sunshine where he is." She heaved a sigh, her soft eyes turning down as she thought of her husband hoarded away in a rotten, stone cell like yesterdays meat. The thought was chilling. Suddenly aware that both boys were looking at her, she snapped to attention and forced a smile, "I shall send an elf upstairs when dinner is ready." She swept out of the room leaving the two boys to look after her in stunned silence.

"You really need to accept her hospitality you know," Draco stated in a low voice as he resumed his packing.

"What for?" Harry frowned as he sank down onto the opposite end of the bed.

"She has very few people, if any, to socialize with. Considering she also hasn't used the life debt you owe her yet, she probably feels as though she needs to make more of an effort."

"In case I cash in something dreadful?"

"Don't be ignorant, Potter," he snapped irritably, "I just mean ... She feels that she owes you a lot. So don't hurt her pride and just accept it, okay?"

Harry shifted and tugged on the end of his shirt. "I know it's just ... I feel awkward."

Draco cocked an eyebrow before leaning over and bracing himself on his arms, "Once in a while there are going to be genuinely nice people out there who don't wish you harm."

"Are you included in that minority?" he asked with a small smile.

Draco shrugged a shoulder, "I'd like to think so."

"Good," Harry grinned before hopping off the bed, "Are you almost done?"

Draco cast a look down into his trunk before sighing, "I guess it'll have to do. I can buy whatever else I need there, right?"

"Should be able to."

His hands stilled as he reached for his wand, "What do you mean 'should'?" he asked in a dangerously low voice. He refused to go skiing if there was nowhere to get the blasted equipment.

"Well in most places it shouldn't be a problem," Harry turned to face him, "I'm sure what you've got is fine. Now come on, close everything up and levitate it down to the hallway."

"Can't I just get an elf to do that?" Draco asked, wrinkling his nose.

"You could," he affirmed, "But I just want to know whether or not the Ministry restricts your use of basic spells."

"You know they're pretty tight-arsed about it. I might as well not take my wand on holiday."

Harry shook his head, "Don't be put out. I'm sure you can use the most basic of spells. Now come on, we need everything to be together for when we leave in the morning otherwise we won't remember it."

"You may not," Draco stated with a smirk, "But I seem to recall having a much better memory than your average boy-who-lived."

Harry froze in the doorway and Draco immediately regretted his words. Thankfully, Harry turned with a smirk of his own, "Watch that tongue, Malfoy, or you may get what's coming to you."

"Is that a threat?" Draco asked, not sure if he wanted to smile or not.

Another shrug. "Let's say it's more of a promise," with a grin over his shoulder Harry walked out of the room, leaving Draco to mutter a levitation charm and guide the obscenely heavy trunk down the grand staircase and into the foyer of the Manor.

Later that evening after they had finished their dinner and Narcissa had retired to bed, Harry found himself sitting in one of two armchairs in Draco's bedchamber, his legs curled underneath him as a low fire cast a reddish glow around the room. He was dressed in a pair of loose bottoms, boxers and a t-shirt as he waited for Draco to finish in his en-suite bathroom. For a silly moment, he wondered why both Malfoy's were complaining about being stuck in the manor for a year, however he then realised that, having grown up or at least lived in the house for almost two decades straight, he doubted there was a single dark corner that either or them didn't know about.

His heart sank a little as he realised that, in the last couple of weeks, he hadn't really heard Draco mention any of his other Slytherin friends coming to visit him. He still tried to make the effort and see Ron and Hermione, although he could feel the forcefulness in their actions towards him. They really were not comfortable with him going off travelling with Draco, even though Hermione was always the clear-minded one out of the three of them.

Perhaps Draco had a point about Hermione's priorities.

The war was over, life didn't need to be _as_ serious as it had been before. They had all grown-up too fast and Harry knew that, he truly did, but for now he just wanted to 'stop' growing up and enjoy his youth to some extent while he still had it.

The door clicked and Draco came out, muttering a soft 'nox' over his shoulder to turn the bathroom lights out. "You're not getting nervous are you?" Draco asked with a heavy frown as he settled down into the armchair opposite him.

Harry looked sheepishly down at his lap and shrugged stiffly. "I don't know. I've never done this before."

Draco's eyes went wide, "Wait, so you're trying to convince me to travel in this muggle contraption yet you've never actually done it yourself!"

"... Maybe."

Draco ground his back teeth together and narrowed his eyes, "That is so like you." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Now you've gone and made me feel ever more nervous."

"Sorry," Harry made an apologetic expression and Draco couldn't be too mad. Not when he had a plane-ride to worry about.

Glancing at the ornate clock on top of the mantelpiece, Draco sighed and stood up from his chair. "If we need to be up early we should probably get some sleep."

Harry nodded and flicked his wand to extinguish the fire. The room was plunged into an eerie, dull blue gloom. He made his way over to the small cot the house elves had set-up not too far from the fireplace and pulled the thin blankets up around his shoulders. Long after he settled down he could still hear Draco rustling about in the four-poster bed a few feet from him. "Are you okay?" he called into the darkness, his voice suddenly loud in the large, stone chamber.

From across the room he heard the blonde sigh. "Just ... feeling a little apprehensive."

"If it bothers you this much after the flight we can port-key from Switzerland on-wards."

Draco could hear the resignation in Harry's voice and could not help the hollowness that crept up inside him. He didn't want to ruin any of their trip but he was incredibly anxious about flying. A broom was different, he had control over the direction, speed and height. In a plane he could do nothing but sit there and watch what happened ... If anything.

"Or we could ... See how this flight goes, and go from there?"

Harry gave a soft smile in the darkness. Truthfully, he was scared too. He'd never flown in a plane before and he was getting butterflies just thinking about it all. "Yeah we'll see how it goes," he murmured loud enough to be heard, grateful that the stone walls carried even a whisper to the other side of the room.

Not too long after, he fell asleep.

~0~

The following morning they were up before dawn and Harry kept having to blink to keep his eyes from falling shut in sleep. Draco was most definitely _not_ a morning person as he shuffled back and forth, grunting under his breath in the most undignified manner that Harry had ever seen. He would've found it amusing if his own appearance hasn't been just as tragic.

Narcissa had awoken earlier specifically to see them off. They were to be escorted to the airport in an official ministry 'car' with a couple of aurors just to make sure that they were, in fact, going where they said they were going. Apparently, Harry Potter's word only held so much weight. Precautions still needed to be taken in regards to marked 'Death Eaters'.

Smiling tiredly, Narcissa wrapped her arms around her son and squeezed him tightly. Harry hung back, stunned and amazed at just how lucky Draco had been. His mother, despite everything that was going on, was his rock. He was so _lucky_ to have her. "You two be safe, okay?" Narcissa murmured into his ear as he squeezed her back.

It was the most 'human' the Malfoy's had ever looked.

He gave a tired smile and hand-wave but was side-tracked by Narcissa at the door. She pulled him to her chest and gave him a tight hug too. It was the most unclassy thing she'd ever done despite having a ram-rod posture and her sharp chin dug into his shoulder. "Keep him safe," she breathed against his ear and he could do nothing else in that position, except nod.

In the early morning light the two aurors standing stationary on either side of the car looked even more menacing than they were.

"Mister Potter," the nearest one -Roberts -inclined his head.

Harry nodded his own, "Roberts."

"Destination Stanstead airport, correct?"

Harry didn't say anything this time. He merely nodded and stepped back for Draco to slide into the backseat before climbing in alongside him.

The two aurors took their places in the driver and passengers seat. The engine started. "Buckle your seat-belts, boys, it's going to be a long ride."

It took forever to get to the airport, even with almost-empty roads and by the time they pulled into the drop-off area Draco was agitated and Harry was pretty sure his brain had gone numb. He was more than grateful when the back door was clunked open and he stepped out into the breezy, grey morning. His trunk was plonked down next to him and he just about registered Draco's own almost being dropped on the blonde's foot before the aurors slammed the boot shut. Roberts looked down his sloped nose at Harry and in a low voice muttered, "If there are any complication with this arrangement, Mr. Potter, you can contact us by owl and we will respond immediately."

Harry felt his insides harden but he merely nodded his head, "Thank you, Auror Roberts." They shook hands briskly before Roberts turned back towards the car just as Draco was hauling his trunk up onto the curb. The ministry car screeched out of earshot. Draco glared over his shoulder as he saw the tail-lights flash and disappear into the early morning mist that still hung low over the trees.

"I really hate the people in charge of our safety," he muttered darkly as he readjusted his grip on his trunk handle.

"Yeah well it's the same with muggles and the police," Harry stated as he adjusted his rucksack on his back.

"The what?" Draco frowned.

"Muggle equivalent of aurors. Except they're more obvious to spot." Heaving a sigh, Harry glanced at the large, white spokes that held the ceiling of the airport up. "Well we still have another two hours to kill before our flight. Do you want to go inside and get some breakfast?"

Draco cast an uncertain glance up at the ornate building and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. He felt as though his stomach had shriveled up inside him. How on earth could he have an appetite when he needed to be up in the air in less than two hours with no form of magic to aid him on the journey. He shivered and tilted his head to the side. "I suppose I have to eat," he stated dryly.

Harry tilted his head and frowned, "You're not worried are you?"

"I'm always worried, Potter," Draco snapped irritably.

"Look, let's just get through security and we'll go and get something to eat, okay?"

"Security?" his blood ran cold at the word. He shivered and eyed the airport once again. "What exactly does security entail?"

"Well they check our boarding pass, scan our bags to see what's inside them, and then they scan us to see if we have anything concealed."

"They can't detect our ... charms, can they?" he asked in a hushed voice.

Harry tried his best to suppress his chuckle. "No, don't worry, that won't be a problem." He started to move towards the curb so as to cross over to the main entrance, when he stopped and turned on his heel to eye Draco warily. "You don't have anything ... metal ... on you, do you?"

Draco quickly glanced down at him. "I have a belt buckle."

"Alright well you'll need to take that off as well. Don't worry. I'll be there too, so you should be alright." Ruffling his black hair out of his eyes, Harry cast a quick glance up at the blonde; his jaw was set and his fists were clenched tightly around the strap of the muggle backpack he'd borrowed from Harry. Straightening up to his full height, Harry walked a few steps ahead of the blonde, "Come on then, let's get this over with."

Draco watched the dark mop of hair bob ahead of him and he couldn't help but feel sick as he passed through the circular doors. It was huge inside; of course it was big on the outside, but the inside was enormous! The ceilings were so much higher than he'd expected. He was used to high ceilings from living in the manor all year long, but this was something else. It was all so white, and he couldn't help but feel so small in comparison.

He staggered as someone barged into him from behind and didn't even stop long enough to look over their shoulder, let alone even say 'sorry'. He scowled and carried on, keeping his eyes trained on Harry as he maneuvered in and out of the throng of rushing people. He didn't think so many people would be awake and in one place at such an early hour. Unless of course, they were working at the Ministry.

"Draco? Over here!"

Swiveling around, he saw Harry standing at a counter where loads of asian girls and tall, bearded people appeared to be putting things into strange, clear sacks. He edged over, his palms still sweating as he came to stand next to Harry. "What're you doing?" he asked as he saw Harry drag small bottles out of his rucksack and put them into the small, clear sack.

"You need to out any liquids, powders of sharp objects into a plastic bag," Harry told him, gesturing to the small well where numerous slippery bags were stacked. "Do you have any?" he asked when he noticed that Draco hadn't moved at his words.

Draco shook his head, "Nope. Nothing."

"Not even cologne or hair products?" Harry asked, his eyes widening a little as the blonde shook his head a second time. "Oh I thought ... Never mind. Great, then we're good to go."

Draco couldn't contain his panic as he saw that they were, indeed, walking towards the same strange barriers as the rest of the crowd. As he passed by some large noticeboards, he saw that people had in fact crawled in the space underneath and were sleeping, with bags under their heads as pillows and coats flung over their eyes, clearly having no regard as to whether they were a nuisance or even if they were robbed. It was ludicrous to him! Why would they risk such nonsense?

Harry grabbed his forearm and stalled him in the crowd for a second, "Okay, I called in a favour with the Minister and he sent these to me the other day. This is your new passport," he offered a small burgundy booklet to him, "And this is your boarding pass. You just need to swap the bar-code on the red light, okay?"

Draco took the flimsy piece of paper and stared at it as though he was reading runes. He opened his mouth and was about to protest but didn't have the words. "Sure," he nodded stiffly as Harry's hand on the small of his back turned him towards the barriers. His stomach dropped down into his shoes as dread flooded through him. Harry's palm burned through his jumper and it made him feel light-headed. He paid shrewd attention to the people either side of him. Taking a deep breath, he swiped the bar-code over the light. He almost jumped when the light flashed green and the strange padded barriers opened up. He felt a prod in his back and hurried on through.

Relief rushed through him. He'd done it! And on the first try, too!

"You alright?" Harry asked as he came to stand next to him.

"Yes I think so," Draco said, his smile making him look a lot less tired than before. Harry couldn't help but muse that he should definitely try and smile more often. "So what's next?"

"Come this way," Harry tugged on his forearm. They moved into another zig-zagging queue. "Okay, this is the part where we have to take off belts, shoes and jackets."

"Okay," Draco shuffled along beside him. Somehow he even made shuffling look elegant. Harry hadn't even known that was a THING, and yet suddenly, it was.

Thankfully, they managed to pass through the security checks without any problems. Draco had wanted to protest about having to remove his shoes, but a very loud cough from Harry had made him clamp his mouth shut as he shuffled through the metal detector. Once they'd gotten through the long, polished corridor with glittery floor tiles, and perfume shops before coming out into an area where there were plenty of food establishments. He obediently followed Harry to a strange looking place. It sort of smelled similar to the Three Broomsticks and Draco immediately felt a little better.

"You hungry?" Harry's voice snapped him out of his musings as someone handed the brunette a couple of menu's. Draco followed him around to an alcove where they shifted their bags under the table and used the third chair on their table to plant their rucksacks.

"What exactly do they cook here?" Draco asked, scrunching up his face as he took hold of the slightly stained menu. So many of the foods had weird names, and he was unable to fixate on one long enough.

"Well they have a lot of stuff like at school, except, well ... different names."

"That's a big help, thanks," Draco quipped sarcastically. Harry couldn't help but grin a little. It was slightly crooked, his smile, but Draco found it rather endearing. ' _Merlin I must be tired!_ ' he berated himself as he dropped his eyes back down to the menu. "Very well, how bout you go and order for the both of us then, since you know a lot more about it then I do."

Harry stared at him for a moment, before nodding, "Alright then, I won't be gone too long." He took Draco's menu and shuffled along until he was out of the booth and walking across the crowded eating area to the counter.

Harry came back without any plates or drinks and Draco couldn't help but scowl up at him. "So where's the food?" he griped.

"It's coming. They have to cook it all first. Plus, there were a few people ahead of me in the queue." Harry shrugged as he settled down in the booth and adjusted his classes.

Draco huffed but didn't complain. Instead he leaned back against the worn leather seat and shut his eyes for a little while. The sounds of people eating and lightly chatting around them created a soothing bubble of white noise. "Tea?" came a voice from above. Draco cracked an eye open to see a rather weary looking man a few years older than him, carrying a trap with a tea pot, two cups and a pair of plates with a strange, fat sandwich on each. He sat up straighter as the tray was unloaded and the man scurried back behind the counter.

"So what did you order for us?" he asked, wrinkling his nose up a little.

"I thought that bacon butty's would be best," Harry grinned tiredly as he picked up his sandwich and took a huge, undignified bite. "What?" he asked, frowning as Draco eyed his sandwich. "What's wrong? I know you eat bacon, I've seen you eating it in the Great Hall."

Draco shifted in his seat, "No it's not that it's just ... It looks so greasy!"

Harry tilted his head sympathetically before saying, "Look, just try it okay? If not, I have ordered you something else, just in case."

Draco looked up in surprise, "You ... did? Why?"

"In case I made a mistake," Harry murmured, a shy little smile tugging the corners of his mouth.

Draco sat there in silence, watching as Harry continued to eat away at his sandwich. He gingerly started to eat his own, the greasy making his stomach flip a little but otherwise he barely registered what he was eating. About twenty minutes later another waitress came up to the table and cleared their used plates away and then placed a single plate with syrup covered pancakes down in front of them. Draco eyed the golden syrup, his sweet tooth kicking in and his appetite peeking.

He didn't even wait for a signal, he simply picked up his clean fork and stabbed in the stack. He barely paid attention to Harry grin's as he continued to eat away, the brunette stealing a mouthful here and there.

He was lucky he didn't lose any fingers to the blonde.

Once the stack had vanished, Harry leaned over to him and cocked a dark eyebrow, "Satisfied yet?" he smirked.

Draco hummed in satisfaction and leaned back in his chair, "Oh yes, those were the best pancakes I've had in a while. Mother doesn't let me have them at home, so this really is a treat."

Harry smiled even wider, "Well I'm glad." He glanced down at a silver watch on his wrist, "Come on, our gate should be open now. We should probably make a move."

Draco felt the colour drain from his face, "R-Really? You don't think we have another ... hour or so?"

Harry shook his head, "Sorry, no. We need to make a move now or they'll give our seats away."

Draco tried to stifle a groan as he slipped out of the booth, adjusted the rucksack on his back -it really was awkward as he wasn't used to such luggage -and forced himself to remain dignified as he trailed along behind Harry. He followed the dark mop of hair as they went down moving stairs -really, when had muggles figured THAT out? -and then up and down aisles, staircases and through so many checks it made him sick to think of it all.

Finally, he dragged himself up behind Harry and stepped foot onto the plane. Between showing his boarding pass to the stewardess and finding his seat he mentally chanted 'WE'RE NOT GOING TO CRASH! WE'RE NOT GOING TO CRASH!' over and over and over again. As soon as he was seated next to Harry and some middle-aged woman, he felt himself start to sweat as he gripped his armrests. His knuckles were white and his seat-belt dug into his stomach.

There was literally no escaping his fate.

He clamped his eyes shut.

"Relax," Harry murmured in his ear and shifted next to him. He almost jumped when he felt Harry's fingers slowly wrap themselves around his palm. "We'll be in the air soon."

But Draco wasn't listening. All he could hear was the roaring of the engines coming to life, the rumbling feeling of the tarmac under the plane, and the -finally -the sickening tug on his navel.

It was almost as bad as apparating. Almost.

* * *

 **A/N: Please R &R!**


	7. Switzerland & Skiing

**A/N: Thank you to FanofBellaandEdward for checking this chapter through for me and helping to keep me motivated!**

* * *

 **Chapter Six:**

 **Switzerland and Skiing**

For once it was a dry morning when Draco walked into Harry's private room and settled down in the plush chair beside his bed. He had a plastic folder tucked under his arm as he leaned forward and tentatively stroked his lover's smooth skin with his palm. His skin was barely warm and he frowned before slipping his wand out of its holster. Running his wand the length of the bed he detected none of the warming charms or monitors he'd placed around Harry to inform him of any changes in his health or general condition.

All charms had been removed.

He felt his blood start to boil but he forced himself to remain calm as he re-cast the charms around the bed with careful precision. Harry had often commented that he would have been either an amazing professor or a great auror with the amount of self-control he had learned since the war. He didn't agree. He felt that his patience was tested on a daily basis enough with having to deal with the Healers, the aurors and Hermione and the rest of the Weasley clan. And that was without it being 'his job'.

He settled back down in his chair and reached out to slip his fingers into Harry's limp hand. "Hey there, love," he murmured quietly. "How're you feeling?" Of course Harry didn't reply, but that didn't deter the blonde. "Seeker really misses you, you know? He really wants you to come home," he squeezed his eyes tightly and drew in a long, watery breath as he grasped Harry's hand tighter. "I want to too, as well. I need you there with me. I can't handle Hermione all on my own."

He sighed and sat up a little straighter, shifting his chair even closer to the head of the bed.

"I brought some more of the story for you," he cleared his throat and drew out the pages from the folder in his lap, "Okay so we left off at the part of our first plane ride, right? Heading for Switzerland?"

The beeping of the monitoring charms were the only thing that filled the silence other than the thumps his own, heavy heart.

"Right so, chapter four ..."

~0~

By the time that touched down in Switzerland Harry was sure that his knuckles were cracked where Draco had squeezed it so hard.

When the plane finally pulled to a stop and a trumpet sounded off over the intercom system, Harry was relieved to pry his hand away and stand up to take their hand-luggage down from the overhead storage. Draco looked as white as a sheet as he fumbled with his belt and finally unbuckled it. His fingers felt like rubber and his legs were like jelly as he stood up in the small, cramped space and shifted out.

"You okay?" Harry asked him as both of their rucksacks were rested down in Harry's seat.

The blonde nodded stiffly, his clammy looking features making Harry wish they were already at their chalet, washed, dressed and eating food. "I'll be fine. I just want to get off this bloody machine!" he hissed under his breath.

"Alright, stay close to me alright?"

Draco grumbled a response but did as he was told, hoisting his rucksack onto his back and sighing heavily as he shuffled along behind Harry down the aisle between the seats.

As soon as his feet had landed firmly on the tarmac, Draco allowed himself to be struck by the beauty of the mountains in the far distance, the sweet smelling breeze that ruffled his hair and the sudden grubbiness that clung to his skin. The urge to hurry into the closest shower and scrub the horrible plane journey from his skin, was overwhelming. Catching sight of Harry's black tuft of hair, he hurried along to catch up, weaving in and out the throng of people towards the exit.

The sunlight warmed him up a little as the sweat dried on his skin.

They made their way through the airport and out past a few couple of shiny gift shops before coming out to the 'baggage-claim' section of the airport. It took almost forty minutes for their two trunks to come out. Once they'd gotten the trunks off the conveyor belt, something that mystified the blonde, they moved their way out towards the front entrance, where lines of cars with 'TAXI' signs nearby. Following Harry along the pavement, they managed to hail an empty taxi and, with the drivers help, hoisted their cases into the boot.

Harry gave the directions to the chalet they were apparently going to be staying at, near a skiing resort.

The drive was long and yet, Draco found himself enjoying it. The roads, whilst narrow, were fairly smooth. Despite the steep incline as they drove up the long winding roads in the mountains, he edged over a little to peer out of the windows. The air was so much clearer than what he was used to. Even the clouds somehow looked fluffier. The mountains and the colour of the glassy surface of the lakes took his breath away.

He suddenly felt so restless as they were stuck in the back of the taxi for well over two hours. He was desperate to get out and stretch his legs. "Are we nearly there?" he whispered, leaning over so that Harry could hear him.

Harry hummed softly before glancing at a chunky thing on his wrist. "Um we should be nearly there I think."

Draco slumped back in his seat and sucked in a deep breath as the temperature dropped a little inside the car. Small white flakes drifted down from the sky. "Is ... Is it snowing?" he asked incredulously as the car finally pulled up in front of a wooden lodge, the windows illuminated with golden light and surrounded by sweet smelling trees.

"We're at a skiing lodge, Draco. The higher we go in the mountains the more it'll snow," Harry smiled as he unfastened his seat-belt and opened the door. Draco followed suit and soon their trunks were on the floor, Harry had paid the driver, and they were left on the front porch of the lodge.

Draco shuddered as he hauled his rucksack on his back and followed Harry in through the front door.

The rush of warm air made goosepimples break out over his skin and his stomach growled loudly. He'd refused to eat the plane food and was now ravenous for a large, seven course meal ... or whatever this place served. Harry joined him at half way through the lobby, having just booked them in and handed him a silver key. "Come on, we need to walk through the main building for our rooms."

"Thought we had a chalet?" the blonde frowned.

"Confusion. Chalets here are for the larger parties. We don't even have twenty off other people to fill the smallest one, so we're just going to have a room in the main hotel. That's not a problem, is it?"

Draco cocked his head, eyeing the lobby they were in; it was clean, classically decorated and had a subtle air of elegance. "I suppose that's not too terrible."

"I'm sorry, it really was my mistake." Harry gave him an apologetic look which Draco couldn't entirely ignore.

"Look it's fine. I have no idea where we're meant to go so ... feel free to lead the way," Draco stated with a stiff smirk. He just wanted to go and lay down somewhere. And eat. And shower.

Harry gave a nod and turned to lead the way. They climbed into a 'golden lined' lift, but instead of going side-to-side like the one's at the Ministry he was used to, they only went up or down. Either way the sensation of climbing higher was still eerie to him. The doors opened up onto a richly carpeted hallway with doors on either side. Each door had a little reader next to it. They walked down towards the end of the hallway before stopping at door '72'.

Harry slid the flat plastic card through the reader.

The green light came on, and the door opened to let them in.

The room was clean, bright and subtly elegant like the reception area had been downstairs. The carpet was a neutral biscuit colour, the twin beds were separated by the two nightstands and there was a large window that looked out onto the beautiful landscape. The bedclothes were a neutral combination of gold and green brocade and the pillows were starched, white and pristine. Draco wondered over to the door off to the side, beside the little storage area, and opened it up into the en-suite bathroom. The ceramic tiles seemed to glimmer with golden sparkles, and the taps and feet of the claw-foot tub were ornate and golden.

"Does the room get your approval?" Harry's voice called to him through the open doorway.

Draco cast one more cursory glance around the room before nodding his head, "It'll do."

Harry scoffed, rolled his eyes and then unpacked a few of his essentials into the bedside cupboard before taking his trunk and putting it in the wardrobe. Draco followed suit and once he'd closed the door, he straightened up and sighed heavily. He was so tired. _So_ tired. Did he want to sleep or was eating a better option? He couldn't decide. The journey to get there had exhausted all of his energy, but sleeping was hardly going to help that. However, going down to eat with several hours of 'plane' and 'taxi' lingering on him was just gross.

"What're you staring at?" Harry asked.

Shaking himself out of his musings, he turned to the dark-haired man and hummed, "Sorry, I was just thinking about what I wanted to do."

"What're your options?" Harry tease, leaning on the bed with a grin, toeing his shoes off and then swinging his feet up onto the mattress.

"Sleep, then shower and go down for dinner. Shower then dinner. Or eat, shower and then sleep."

"How adventurous of you," the brunette muttered, "Well do you feel like you could sleep? Because if not you could just have a bath and relax in there for a while. We don't have a schedule at the moment so you can just relax."

Tilting his head to the side, Draco bit on his bottom lip. The bath sounded like a good idea. It wasn't anywhere as near as his own one in the manor of even the one in the Slytherin boys' dorms. It was only about a fifth of the size of the tub in the prefect's bathroom, but it would do. "Alright, I think I'll do that. What do you plan on doing?"

"Are you kidding?" he asked, cocking a black eyebrow at his companion, "I'm napping! Go on, shower away. Go condition your hair or whatever it is you do."

Draco sneered but couldn't come up with a retort. Conditioning was a part of his washing ritual, regardless of what other people thought. He turned sharply on his heel and went to grab his own shampoo, conditioner and towel out of his the nightstand. He strode into the bathroom, closed the door and locked it with the cheap silly slide-lock that muggles thought would keep them safe. Ha! As if! "Stupid muggles," he grumbled as he set about unfastening the buttons of his shirt and unbuckling his belt.

He had to fiddle about with the taps for a while before he got the water to the right temperature.

Soaking in the tub was like a dream. He let his mind wander off as he allowed himself to relax in the hot water. He washed his hair and took his time drying off and changing into the pair of pyjamas he'd brought in with him. Drawing his wand off the shelf over the sink, he cast a quick charm that dried his hair into a fluffy blonde halo. NOW he could sleep and it wouldn't bother him.

Creeping out into the room he saw that the sun was hanging low in the sky through the window and that Harry had curled up on his side, arm tucked under his head and was sleeping soundly. As he looked down at the dark mass of hair he couldn't help but wonder why they'd hated one another for so long. Had it really been hate? Shaking his head, he reached over and gently pulled the throw blanket over Harry's legs, before climbing into his own bed, pounding the pillows into submission and curling up to sleep.

~0~

"I don't really think I can do this," Draco's voice trembled as he looked down between his knees at the snowy ground passing by.

Harry was shuddering just as badly beside him. Whether it was because of the cold, or the fact that they were going to be 'skiing' down a mountainside with barely any lessons. It had been three days since they'd arrived in Switzerland. The second day they'd gone and explored and even looked into some lessons. There were only going down the beginner slopes and even though it made Draco feel silly considering how old he was, one look at the advanced slopes had his stomach dropping into his shoes.

"Well let's try and get down one slope then we can at least say we've done it," Harry managed through chattering teeth.

Draco wrinkled his nose but didn't say anything as the reached the summit and climbed off the chair lift. The snow was soft under foot as they crunched their way to the top of the gentle slope that led to the start of the beginners trail. Draco barely listened to what Harry's plan of action was as he trembled in his skis. He knew he was going to make a fool of himself. It was inevitable. Harry would no doubt be perfect without even trying. He always seemed to have that sort of luck, regardless of what it was they were doing.

"You know what, I've changed my mind," Draco stated through clenched teeth, his fingers quaking as he shifted further away from the precipice. The wind whipped at his cheeks and chapped his lips. It somehow rushed down his collar and chilled his insides.

"Draco stop being such a chicken. I haven't done this either."

"Yes but somehow you'll excel at it without even trying!" ground out the blond, the bitterness edging his words.

Harry stopped and turned to look up at him. Despite the goggles, scarf and thick knitted hat, Draco could still see the heavy frown marring his features. "You don't need to go down if you really don't want to. I just thought that it'd make a fun memory to show your mother." He shrugged heavily before turning his attention to the slope just below his skis.

"It would it's just ... unnerving," he managed.

Casting a glance around them to make sure that no muggles were listening in on them -not that they could hear above the whistling of the cold wind -before murmuring into Draco's ear. "Well we've not done this before. Just think of it like the first time you rode a broomstick or ... a horse ... or something." He trailed off lamely but Draco couldn't help the smile that stretched over his face. He was grateful he was wearing a scarf to hide behind. "On the count of three?" Harry asked brightly, his skis teetering over the edge.

Draco felt his muscles turn to stone as he shuffled a few steps closer. "One ... Two ... Three!"

With one final push, they'd left the ledge behind them.

Draco felt his stomach crash down into his ski boots at he tried to keep his balance, knees bent and the wind smacking his cheeks raw. He tipped himself at a slight angle and watched as Harry's figure rushed on ahead a little. He tried not to roll his eyes as he focused on his balance and breathing. He couldn't smell anything through his high collar and thick scarf.

The air was like ice in his lungs.

The adrenaline was rushing inside him, burning him up like an inferno that he couldn't control. It was better than when he'd learned to ride a broom. He felt great! He didn't realise he could have this much excitement and fun with two feet more or less firmly on the ground. People rushed by him just as easily, some wobbled about, almost doing the splits and he couldn't help but feel pride swell inside him.

So far his skiing had been flawless.

The end of the slope was drawing ever closer and he couldn't help but wish for more ground to cover. Perhaps they could go again? Over the last small bump along the slope, Harry came up alongside him, leaning into the wind breaking around them before it happened.

Harry's knees locked and his skis went out from under his leg.

He tumbled and fell headfirst into the snow, rolling awkwardly with the skis spiraling like a propeller towards the end of the slope. Draco winced and came to a stop at the end of the slope. He quickly unfastened his skis from his boots and hurried back up the slope, despite yells coming from behind him. It was awkward to run, sinking into the snow just below his knees.

"HARRY!" he called out as he rolled Harry over onto his back and unwound the scarf from his neck and tried to check him over. Goddamn the thick puffa jacket! "Are you alright? Goddamn it Potter what's wrong with you?"

To his surprise, Harry was laughing.

Punching his arm through the numerous layers, Draco glared down at him having snatched his fogged goggles off his head. "What the hell are you laughing at, you idiot? You could've broken something!"

"I think I'm alright!" Harry finally gasped out, his laughter dying down as he struggled to sit up and shake the snow from his hair. "Can you help me up? We need to get off the slope."

"Yeah wouldn't want someone skiing over you now, would we?" Draco ground out as he roughly yanked the brunette to his feet. The skis slipped awkwardly underneath as he rose to his full height, latching onto the blonde's shoulders for balance.

Once they'd gotten to the end of the slope and Harry had unlatched his skis from his boots and sank into the snow, he turned to Draco with a pink-faced grin. "That was so much fun! Did you enjoy it?"

"Can we just focus on getting you back to the room in one piece, please?" Draco snapped as Harry clumsily wrapped an arm around his shoulders and stumbled alongside him, the snow making it awkward to walk properly.

Harry heaved a heavy sigh, dropped his chin but didn't say anymore for the rest of the walk back to the chair lifts. By the time they returned to their room the air was thick and stiff between them, like trying to breathe through smoke.

Their room was pleasantly warm by the time they staggered in through the door.

With a grunt, Draco eased Harry down onto his bed and quickly shuffled out of his stifling skiing gear before running a hand through his sweaty blonde hair. "Alright let's get you out of all this and see if there's any bruises."

"I'm fine," Harry replied shortly, as he started to fumble with his zip with trembling hands.

Draco froze as he was getting a fresh shirt out of his drawer and looked over his shoulder. Harry was half-way out of his thick skiing gear and his jaw was set firm. Tense and a little on edge, Draco turned his attention back to changing and getting his blood circulating again. The snow that had seeped into his collar had chilled him right through to his skin. It was a horrible feeling but he knew that a hot shower would only make him feel worse. With a sigh he turned and crouched down at the foot of Harry's bed. "Let me," he calmly took Harry's damp foot in his hand and peeled the wet sock off before tossing he sodden clump into the corner of the room. Once the socks were off, the heavy trousers followed.

Luckily, the boxer shorts were still dry.

Harry shivered on the bed as Draco left him to retrieve some warm clothes to dress the brunette. He relaxed a little as he let Draco dress him and soon the wet clothes were charmed dry and packed away out of sight. Dragging a throw blanket over from his bed, Draco curled up beside Harry without speaking and wrapped themselves in the blanket.

"Sorry I was short with you," Harry murmured.

"You can't help your stunted growth, Potter," Draco chided softly. He grunted as an elbow dug into his stomach.

"You know what I mean. You were just looking out for me, I'm sorry I got moody."

Draco curled in closer around the brunette and smiled softly as he burrowed into the pillows. "It's alright, we're not used to each other yet. I get it. Miracles can't happen over night, you know."

Harry turned so that they were facing one another, almost nose-to-nose. "We're friends Draco. I am used to you. It's just ... I thought we were having fun and all of a sudden you're looking angry. I thought I'd pissed you off."

Draco couldn't help but snort. "I was worried about you, Scarhead."

"Aw really?" Harry smirked.

The blonde rolled his eyes, "Tell anyone and I'll hex your ball off."

"Charming as ever."

The following morning they woke up and had their last breakfast in the hotel before they set off in the taxi for the train station, having packed everything before bed the night before. Both were tired and barely spoke for the majority of the journey to the station. Once they'd paid the driver, they dragged their trunks through the ticket barriers and sank down onto a metal bench to wait for their train.

Draco let out a loud yawn and failed to stifle it as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't think I'd be so unused to early morning after living at Hogwarts for seven years."

Harry grunted in agreement. "It's true. I normally think that sleeping until 9AM is a lay-in."

Draco snorted. "I think when we get to the next place this afternoon, I want to write a letter to mother. Let her know how everything is going. Maybe send her a memory?" he added as an afterthought.

Harry nodded, "You could, although wouldn't you rather wait so that you can send her a few at the same time?"

He shrugged, "I suppose. But then what else am I suppose to send her other than a silly little letter?"

"How about a postcard?"

"Excuse me?" the blonde turned to look at him with a perplexed expression on his face and his fringe falling into his eyes. Harry had to resist the urge to brush the soft, golden hair away.

"They have some over at the kiosk," Harry pointed at the small tuck shop off to the side. Down one end of the counter-top there was a series of still images of the skiing resort they'd stayed at, along with some lakes and other sites in Switzerland. "Want me to get you one? It'll give you something to do on the train."

Draco shrugged, "Sure. Couldn't hurt."

Harry went over to the kiosk and purchased a couple of the printed cards. He wanted to send a couple to the Weasley's and Hermione to let them know how he was doing. He wouldn't go into any great detail, because he knew how annoyed they'd get. He bought the small ones for himself, and a couple of the longer ones for Draco. He knew how the blonde loved to write. "There you go," he grinned as he dropped the postcards into Draco's lap.

"They do look pretty. It's a pity they don't move though."

"Well maybe when we get back at Christmas we can create photos of your memories," Harry suggested as he glanced up at the board. Their train was due any minute now.

"Can you do that?" the blonde asked, shocked.

Harry shrugged, "I have no idea. But there must be a way, right? Magic and all that."

Draco stared as the early morning sun caught a couple of freckles on Harry's nose he hadn't noticed before. He felt his stomach squirm but he told himself he was just hungry. Soon the chugging of a train filled the air as their transport arrived at the platform. They lugged their trunks onto the train and settled down, allowing themselves to travel from paradise to paradise.

* * *

 **A/N: Let me know what you think! x**


	8. Geneva & Guilt

**A/N: This chapter is sort of a misnomer, but I think it works just as well.**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven:**

 **Geneva and Guilt**

The train journey to Geneva was pleasant, despite having to change trains midway through. Geneva was just as picturesque as the resort had been, perhaps even more as Draco literally watched the seasons change right outside the window; going from winter at the Alps to Spring and then full-steam ahead straight into Summer as they drew nearer to Romandy. The heat penetrated through the glass and the faint breeze smelled faintly of the lakes they were drawing closer to.

Draco was enjoying the journey as he wrote on the back of one of his postcards with a silly muggle 'pen'. It really was unbearably fat and uncomfortable as it sat in his hands, in place of a quill. He'd almost finished writing his postcard to his mother and was just signing off when Harry came back to sit down in their seats, placing two drinks on the small table between them. "There you go," Harry murmured through a smile as he settled down on the chair, his back to the windows and knees drawn up to his chest. "You writing to your mum?" he asked.

"Mhm," Draco nodded as he leaned back in the chair and stretched his neck muscles. "Do you think I should write one to my father? Let him know how everything is going so far?"

Harry snickered and almost spilled coke down his front from where he'd been sipping his drink. "Oh God!" he choked out, trying to fan air into his lungs.

Draco glared over the table. He wasn't amused. What had he even said that was so hilariously funny? "What?" he deadpanned.

"It's just ... Remember when you used to always say, ' _My father will hear about this!_ '? Well ... For some reason it just popped into my head ..." he trailed off, giggling to himself.

Draco, however, remained stoic. "Has anyone ever considered you to be funny, Potter?"

Harry shrugged, "Guess it depends on the person."

"Hm," Draco hummed, "Your impression of me is ghastly."

"So sorry I have displeased you, Master," he retorted, in a sarcastic, snobby voice.

Draco rolled his eyes and dropped his attention back to the second, blank postcard. "I suppose it would be rude of me to not write to father as well. Mother will no doubt tell him anyways. Besides, he'll need cheering up."

"That'll be nice for him," Harry rubbed the back of his neck, "Maybe I should write one to Hermione and let her know how everything's been going so far."

"Do what you must," Draco replied flippantly.

Harry frowned over at him, the rhythm he'd been tapping on his knees coming to a halt. "You don't think I should?"

With a shrug, Draco continued to copy what he'd written to his mother onto the blank postcard. "I don't know what you want to do, Harry, but if you want to write a card to her then do it and shut up."

"Boy, I am _so_ glad I invited you on this trip," he grumbled as he swung his legs under the table before flipping through his document in his rucksack and taking out a spare pen and his postcards.

"I didn't ask to come. You invited me," the blonde reminded dryly before peering up through his fringe, "And I have no problem in returning home. I'm sure it'll make the aurors happy to know that even their little saviour can't stand my presence."

Harry pulled a face before sighing and running a hand through his hair, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"You did, but it's okay," Draco sat up and eyed the brunette with a firm stare, "You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and worrying about what those friends of yours think. Write them and let them know how things are going. Be vague if you like, at least they're hearing from you at all. After all the arguments, you could have ignored them for the entire trip."

"I wouldn't have done that no matter how angry I was with them," Harry said with a frown.

"That's my point," Draco stated, his fringe falling in front of his eyes. "You fall over yourself to please them. Even on a subconscious level. If it were up to me, I would make them sweat a little bit more. Maybe write a postcard to Andromeda or something like that. You can let someone know everything that's happening, just not necessarily your friends."

"I don't want them to hate me," he finally managed to say, his sweaty hands locked on the table top.

Draco exhaled through his nose but didn't immediately retort like he wanted to. He clenched and unclenched his jaw before looking up at Harry. "They won't hate you. They'll be upset that you're finally growing something of a backbone, but until then write to Andromeda and find out how the little Lupin boy is."

"He's your cousin too, you know," Harry stated, peering up through his fringe, "You need to stop looking down your nose at him."

"I know what you're thinking," Draco ground out.

"Oh?"

"You think I'm not interested in knowing him because of his parentage."

"No that's not -"

"It is, you don't have to lie," the blonde placated, "However it isn't the reason."

"Okay," Harry leaned back in his chair and folded his arms in front of him, "Indulge me; why haven't you paid any attention to him yet?"

Draco's grey eyes dropped down to look at the table top. "I feel guilty just thinking about him."

Harry blinked. He had not been expected that. Chewing on his cheek, he asked, "What do you mean, 'you feel guilty'?"

"I mean that I feel awful when I think about him because ... My father was a death eater. We followed Him. We wanted everything he stood for ... apparently. What he stood for killed Teddy's mother and father."

Harry pressed his lips together and bowed his head a little. "One day he will understand exactly what it all means. Until then, he's just a little boy without a mum or dad. He needs friends, family, now more than ever. He needs ..." his voice latched in his throat, causing Draco's attention to snap up to him. "He -He needs a childhood."

"Harry?"

Suddenly fierce, bright green eyes bored into his own, "That's all I'm saying. Give him a chance to know 'Draco' like I have, not 'Malfoy' or 'Death Eater's Son'."

Draco pressed his mouth together before inclining his head a little, "Alright. I will go and see them over the Christmas holidays. Preferably when you're there, too. I don't want anything to be too awkward."

Harry gave a small, one-sided smile as he picked up his pen, "Don't worry, I'm sure that won't be too difficult to arrange."

~0~

Draco stopped to take a deep breath, his eyes brimming a little as a small, faded square photo dropped onto his lap. He'd pinned it at the back of the chapter to have it 'photocopied' in the official manuscript, after all the editing was finished. Preferably on paper without tear stains on it. Picking up the photo with delicate fingers, he studied the small moving moment in the bedside light.

It showed a much younger Harry holding an infant Teddy. Draco was standing beside Harry, his face a mask of horror and bewilderment as Teddy opened his arms out for his older cousin to play with him.

It was a photo of the first time he'd willingly gone to see his little cousin and although it had been awkward at first, everyone soon settled into a routine. Harry's presence had been the perfect catalyst for Draco to start building bridges between his aunt and his mother.

With a sigh he ran a hand down his face before balling his fist under his chin and looking over at Harry. His face still looked a little gaunt, especially in the unflattering light. His skin looked waxy at best. The small cotton cap on his head barely distracted Draco from the fact that there were no longer any black, unruly strands to run his fingers through. Everything in the hospital was ugly and barren and sickly. It was no wonder people died in these places.

He hadn't been to see Teddy in ages.

Looking up at Harry lying so still underneath the blankets, he felt a shudder run through him. He knew he was being selfish but seeing Teddy was such a huge risk. The young boy was so sweet yet he didn't seem to realise how much it hurt Draco when he turned his hair black and his eyes would turn a light green colour. He was being an arse, he knew that, but he couldn't ignore the kid for too much longer. Andromeda was already fire-calling every other evening to chastise him for leaving Teddy all alone.

"I need to go and see Teddy tonight, don't I?" he asked no one in particular. He knew Harry couldn't hear him but he wished he could get a response. He leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose. Back before Harry had been ill, Teddy used to come and spend the weekend with them. It was like getting an idea of what having a child was like. Draco had loathed the idea at first, of having a child full-time, but looking back on it now he would give anything to have a lovely, long weekend, with nothing but Harry, Teddy and Seeker running about a muggle park and playing some silly ball game. "I wish I could trade places with you," he breathed, reaching out for Harry's cold limp hand and squeezing it.

"If I could trade places with you, I would. You're so much better in a crisis than I am. You'd know what to do, what to say, how to force a smile and carry on. I can't," he let out a sob, "I always run away from my problems and now ... now I just don't know what do to." He licked his lips and looked back down at the photo of the three of them, before smiling weakly and getting up off the chair. Walking around the end of the bed he propped the photo up against the water-jug that never moved. "There you go, my darling. Your family are always watching over you, now."

He cast a quick _'Tempus'_ and grimaced at the time. It was almost dinner time.

Was it worth fire-calling Andromeda to see if he could stop by and have dinner with them? Visiting hours would be ending within ten minutes anyway; he needed a plan of action.

Sighing, he went into the small bathroom adjoined to Harry's room. His reflection looked a mess as soon as he removed the glamour he'd taken to wearing. His cheeks were almost as hollow as Harry's were and the bags under his eyes were almost black. It looked as though the blood vessels around his eyes had simply burst.

He rinsed his face in warm water, tried to tidy his hair up a little, although even with a quick scourgify charm, nothing much could be done until he got home and took some time for himself to get clean again. He had been rather neglectful of himself. Even Seeker was getting better treatment than he was. Then again, it wasn't difficult. The dog was beyond lovable.

Draco left the bathroom and packed his things together before lingering a moment longer and then pressing a tender kiss to the scar on Harry's forehead. "I love you," he breathed before his breath hitched and he had to leave the room under the threat of bursting into tears.

The door locked behind him with a gentle 'click'.

He marched down the street and hurried around the corner to the apparition point. Standing in the lengthening shadows, he focused on where he needed to go and all too soon felt a sharp tug on his navel.

He landed just on the other side of a wooden picket fence that bordered a well-kept garden at the front of a neat little house. He swallowed thickly as he looked up at the familiar house with its low roof and narrow bricked walls. It felt like coming to a second home. He clenched his jaw, straightened his spine and then tentatively touched the gate, as though expecting to burst into flames. The wood was smooth under his palm as he pushed his way into the front garden and walked up the paved path to the front door.

Raising his hand, he hesitated before finally knocking the brass knocker.

He stood there feeling a little out of place until he heard a shuffling growing louder on the other side of the door. A light illuminated the rippled glass window of the door before it swung inwards. "Draco?" asked the woman who stood in the doorway, her face so similar to Aunt Bella's yet completely different. Andromeda must have always hated looking like her older, less sane sister. Pulling her cardigan around her she leaned closer, "What're you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" he asked, feeling stiff and aching from the cold.

"No, no, not at all," she stepped aside and let him walk into the hallway. The rush of warmth made his realise just how cold he'd become during his visit at the hospital. "Come on in, it's getting rather cold outside." Draco was grateful when she closed the door behind him. She gave him a soft smile, her brunette curls bobbing as she tilted her head to the side, and "Come through to the kitchen, dinner is almost ready. Teddy's just doing some homework from his tutor."

Draco went through to the kitchen. Andromeda returned to the stove where the wooden spoon was stirring whatever was stewing in the pot. He settled down into the wooden chair bedside Teddy. The ten-year-old looked at him from beneath his timid brown fringe, but didn't make any moves to welcome his cousin. Draco tried not to feel offended. It had been a while since he'd visited after all. "Hey there Teddy," he tried, forcing a smile.

Teddy looked up at him properly, but his face clearly warned Draco that he wasn't about to be forgiven so easily. Growing-up with Andromeda as his guardian had hardened the little boy to not take things with a pinch of salt, much like the Weasley-clan. The young boy folded his arms across his chest and pursed his lips before saying, "What's happened to Uncle Harry?"

"Teddy!" Andromeda admonished as she filled their dishes on the counter-top.

His eyes darted to his grandmother before returning to Draco. The childish pout would have been adorable if the situation hadn't been so saddening. Draco flexed his shoulders a little, "I know I haven't been to see you in a while."

"A long while," Teddy interjected.

"A long while," he conceded, "I didn't mean to stay away so long."

"Why did you?"

"Because I was silly and needed some time to myself."

"Is it because Uncle Harry is still asleep?" Teddy asked, his resolve finally cracking a little bit, his amber eyes shining a little.

Licking his lips, Draco nodded, "Yes, it's because Uncle Harry is still asleep."

Teddy opened his mouth to reply when Andromeda swooped in and placed their bowls of chunky vegetable soup in front of them. "Alright boys, pack away for dinner and if you eat everything you can have dessert."

Draco was about to object to being babied when Teddy perked up asking, "What's for dessert Grandma?"

Andromeda grinned slyly, an expression almost identical to that of her sisters, before tapping the side of her nose, "Eat all your dinner and you'll find out." She settled down into her chair and soon they were all eating away at the soup, Draco even going up to refill all their bowls. "So Draco how is everything going?" her voice was low so as not to bother Teddy too much from his eating.

"It's all still normal. Nothing very much has changed."

Andromeda frowned a little, "And what about his friends. Have they been going to visit him like you'd arranged?"

Draco looked up at his aunt for a moment, before sighing softly, "Not as much as they should be. They keep claiming that they have very busy schedules and yet, they take days off to spend with their children. I'm not saying Harry is their child, but the way they argue about him and demand a claim for visitation rights you'd think he _was_ flesh and blood."

His aunt frowned even deeper as she sat back in her chair, "You're telling me that with all those arguments you've had with them, and that talk -that they still don't bother with him?" Draco inclined his head. "Well, in that case I think it's safe to say that Harry doesn't need friends like them."

"What else can I do?"

"You need to hope that there is something that they can do to shrink the tumours. Are you sure you won't reconsider a muggle specialist?"

"Pray tell what muggle doctors can do that our healers can't?" Draco asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Well for one thing they won't be prejudiced against you," she reached out and rubbed his shoulder soothingly. "They also have an advantage over cancer that we do not. Healers focus too much on magical diseases, and very little on the muggle ones that crop up. Listen; go to a special, alright? They'll be able to tell you if he's terminal or not. Or if he's in remission."

"What if he is ...?" Draco let the question hang because simply saying the word would mean that it was a possibility.

"Then there are other options you can take. We'll be here for you, won't we Teddy?" she asked a little louder, including the small boy once again.

"Yeah we'll be there for Uncle Harry and Cousin Draco," he beamed brightly and his smile almost made Draco's eyes mist over.

She squeezed his shoulder soothingly, much like the way his mother did, before standing up and levitating the dirty, empty bowls over to the sink. "Alright, since you two have been very good ... I think it's time for dessert. Draco, be a dear and get some plates out of the cupboard for me."

Draco complied as his aunt went into the pantry -it was indeed a very old little house -and brought out a large sponge cake with thick icing and sprinkles on the top. Draco's eyes went wide and excitement flooded his already full belly and, by the gasp of excitement, this cake was Teddy's favourite too. Andromeda smiled at their expressions as she cut thick slices of the cake and brought if over to them, levitating a jug of thick, creamy custard behind her.

As they ate they chatted gently about other topics, Teddy's tutoring and the holiday they were planning to take as soon as school let out. They hadn't decided where exactly, yet. "Where do you think we should go, Draco?" she asked as she sipped her coffee and Teddy scribbled away at the last of his homework. The atmosphere was incredibly more relaxed.

"Well, as you know Harry and I travelled quite a bit," he said.

"Oh yes, you went to all sorts, didn't you?" she smiled brightly, "Any bright ideas of where to take a child, like young Theodore over there?"

Draco smiled softly, "Well there are a lot of places; you could always go to Geneva or Italy. A lot of places to explore and lovely things for kids to do, like swimming and visiting endangered animal sanctuaries both magical and muggle."

"Or, Grandma that sounds like fun!" Teddy chirruped.

"Alright mister," she smiled over the table at him, "Is your homework done?"

"Yeeees," he sighed with a roll of his eyes.

"Alright, well go and get ready for bed. You have your tutor coming first thing in the morning."

"Okay. Can Cousin Draco come and say goodnight to me before he goes? I don't know when he'll be back after tonight."

Andromeda gave a tight lipped smile, "Don't worry, love, he'll be up in a little while. Now, brush your teeth and relax for a bit before bed, okay?" Teddy nodded before coming around the end of the table and pressing a kiss to his grandmother's cheek. He hesitated a moment before quickly hugging Draco and then bounding out of the room, taking the stairs two at a time to his bedroom.

"He's ever so polite," Draco stated softly.

"Just because I married a muggle doesn't mean my manners vanished into thin air," Andromeda stated somewhat haughtily. She flicked her wand and the sink began to froth with soap, the dishes floating over to be submerged. "Come on, dear; let's have a drink before you leave."

He followed her into the living room where she opened the glass doors of a liquor cabinet and poured to tumblers of brandy. She handed one to him before settling into an armchair. He followed suit, the fireplace crackling to life between them. "Draco, I know that everything is becoming too difficult for you. I can see it in your eyes," she took a delicate slip from her glass, "I love Harry, I really do. I love you both, especially since you got together. I think you need consider the muggle variation. They might be able to do something for him instead of just leaving him in a coma."

"What can I do? I can't just bring a muggle doctor into St. Mungo's and let him examine Harry."

"What if you could?" she asked.

"What?" he asked, frowning heavily.

"I know a doctor in a nearby village. He's a half-blood but trained as a muggle doctor. He occasionally goes to St. Mungo's to see their techniques for cancer and other diseases. He tries to improve on them to make them work faster. If you want, I can have a word with him for you? There might be something he can do."

Draco bowed his head of his drink and nodded, "I wouldn't mind talking with him; however I'm not going to get my hopes up."

"What have you been doing with yourself when you're not at the hospital?" she asked.

"I've been writing about how we got together. I've gotten to the part where we were travelling to Geneva."

"Oh yes. What did you go there, again?" she asked with a frown.

"We toured the nearby areas, and we even went to the lakes and castles near where some author wrote some horror book."

"Where Mary Shelley set the scene for Frankenstein?" Andromeda interjected with a smile.

"That's the one," Draco gave a fleeting smile before sighing softly. He downed the last of his drink before shuddering, "I think I should go and say 'goodnight' to Teddy now."

Andromeda nodded silently and watched him leave the front parlour and disappear from view.

Taking the stairs two at a time, much like Teddy had done a little earlier, Draco finally managed to find the kids room. He knocked and when he was admitted, entered the room and was surprised to see how his bedroom had transformed since the last time he'd visited. The ceiling was a dark blue and had the constellations drawn out in luminous silver paint. They glowed gently in the dim light. Right above his bed there was the constellation of 'LUPUS'.

Draco couldn't help but smile as his eyes were drawn to Teddy lying under his covers, pyjamas on and hair his usual 'turquoise'. Perhaps brunette was his serious hair-colour. He looked up as Draco closed the door behind him. "Oh hi Draco. I didn't hear you come up."

"Are you sure? I made a lot of noise," the blonde stated as he settled on the edge of the bed.

Teddy shrugged and set his book aside, "I didn't mean to make you sad earlier. About Uncle Harry."

"I know you didn't," Draco reassured, soothingly stroking Teddy's shoulder, "It's just ... He's been asleep for a long time. We all miss him."

Teddy nodded his eyes downcast. He wriggled upright before wrapping his arms around Draco's neck. The blonde was surprised as he hugged the little boy around the waist. He squeezed tightly, his eyes finally brimming with tears. "Uncle Harry will come home soon," Teddy prophesised, "And then we can all go on holiday together and be a family."

Draco inhaled the sweet smell of his younger cousin and sighed softly, "I hope he comes home soon too, squirt."

Teddy slowly loosened his grip before he was eased back under the covers and let Draco brushed his blue hair aside. "Love you Draco."

Draco smiled softly as he flicked off the nightlight. "Love you too, Teddy."

At the door of the bedroom he turned and looked at the constellations glittering in the dim light. He felt his chest tighten and he had to turn away. He closed the door gently behind him before taking a moment to compose himself. He ducked into the bathroom and quickly rinsed his face, dabbed himself dry and drew in deep breaths to calm himself down.

He walked down to the front door just in time to see Andromeda turning all the lights off, except for the hallway light. At the front door he turned to her one final time as she spoke, "You'll come back and see us soon, won't you? I can't bear seeing Teddy so lonely."

Draco nodded, "Don't worry; I'll come back again this weekend. I might even bring Seeker and we can all go for a picnic or something."

Andromeda smiled, "That sounds lovely."

He leaned down and hugged her lightly before edging away, "Thanks for dinner, Auntie."

"Any time, dear. Get home safe!"

He nodded and waved over his shoulder. Closing the gate behind him he walked a couple of feet out before he reached the apparition point. Focusing on where he wanted to go, he spun on the spot and vanished with a 'pop'.

* * *

 **A/N: Let me know what you think! x**


	9. Russia & Reality

**A/N: Thank you for all the lovely reviews and support!** **I would also like to address a few points that some people may not understand what has been happening between both stories;**

 **1) Harry is now in a magical coma, unlike in the first story where he is awake and mobile. Due to his relationship with Draco (ex death eater) the healers don't bother with him, therefore monitor him by monitors and charms combined.**

 **2) Any characters that have not been mentioned in this story already, will most likely NOT be making an appearance at all. Sadly this is fanfiction, and not all characters can make an appearance in every story, otherwise we'd have to take time to deviate the plot to fit them in, and sometimes it's just not worth the time.**

 **3) Hermione did have an active 'role' in Harry's care in the first story, however she blindly follows whatever the healers do as they are professionals and she trusts their judgement. This point is reiterated in the current story that she trusts in their judgement and now sees no point in interfering as Harry is permanently residing at St. Mungo's.**

 **4) Hermione and Ron, in this story, are two-faced. They like having the control over Harry's care so that they'd be able to keep Draco away from him. Draco knows this and refuses to let it happen. The reason Draco is controlling the visitation rights, is because of Hermione trying to force Harry back to hospital in the first story. He doesn't trust their judgement.**

 **5) The healer's are mostly prejudiced about Draco being an ex-Death Eater.**

 **6) George has his own family and business to take care of. Whenever the 'Weasley Clan' is mentioned, it generally refers to the main bulk of the family (Molly, Arthur, Ginny, Bill and Fleur).**

 **7) Hermione and Ron know and accept that Harry is gay. They do, however, still question as to whether Draco makes him truly happy. They are fairly blinded by the Weasley family's hatred of the Malfoy's and Death Eater's in general, although Hermione makes more of an effort to be active in both their lives.**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight:**

 **Russia meets Reality**

The following Monday morning found Draco and Andromeda standing at Harry's bedside in St. Mungo's, Teddy sitting in a chair with a book on the other side of the partition. The air was thick with anticipation. On the other side of Harry's bed stood a doctor Draco had only met once before, the previous evening at Andromeda's house when they had gotten together to discuss what could be done. Doctor Jacob was a silver-haired man with small rectangular glasses and had the calm authority of a man who had dealt with many a trying problem in his time.

"Now, do either of you have any idea as to what state your partner is currently in?" Dr. Jacob asked without a hint of malice or contempt in his voice.

Draco was momentarily surprised before he shook his head, "No, the Healer's claim it's classified information."

A frown knitted the doctor's eyebrows together, "But you are his partner and are listed as such."

Draco looked up but couldn't keep eye contact. "Yeah," was all he could say. How could he explain to this man that he was being kept out of the decisions for Harry's health purely because of the, now, ugly scar on his forearm?

Dr Jacob opted not to pry, "Very well. In that case, I will need you to sign any consent forms for me. Do you know when the last time was that he had a scan?"

Draco shook his head, "They hardly ever come in here, the healer's that is."

Inclining his head the white-haired man went around to the end of the bed and picked the chart up. He flicked through the numerous charts, lists, and altered sheets. "By the looks of these charts he's only been monitored since he was re-admitted. There's barely been any charted diagnostic test on him at all."

Draco shot him a perplexed look, his mouth working silently. It was like trying to talk through tar. His brain seemed to have stopped working. Harry had been in a coma for over a month and no one had done any tests to see if his brain was even functional? "What ... Erm ... What does that mean? For us?"

Dr Jacob removed his wand from its holster and quickly made a copy of the documents on show. They floated into a narrow stack on Harry's bedside table. "There, now we have a copy for when the case goes to court."

"Court?" he asked.

Jacob nodded, "Of course. This level of negligence is unprecedented. You could sue for a large amount. Maybe even lead to the firing of his healer's. If they're as prejudiced as you claim they deserve to have their medical licenses revoked."

The idea was indeed tempting. However, in that moment Draco only had eyes fixed on Harry. "I just want to be able to help him any way I can," he murmured his throat thick with emotion as he reached down and took Harry's clammy hand in his own.

Andromeda folded her arms across her chest, "I can have the family lawyer notified so we can discuss how to approach this. In the meantime, let us get some tests done on Harry and see what we'll be dealing with."

Dr Jacob nodded his head before moving around Andromeda to get to the other side of Harry's bed. "I'll need both to step on the other side of the partition for a moment. They won't take too long."

Draco reluctantly let go of Harry's hand and went around the other side of the curtain with his aunt. Teddy looked up from his book, his wide green eyes concerned and expectant. "Is Uncle Harry okay?" he asked, his eyes darting briefly to the mint green curtain keeping Harry out of sight.

"Yes, darling, the doctor's just doing some tests," Andromeda said with a forced smile. Draco gave her a grateful look. He felt as though his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.

"Didn't the other doctor's do tests?" Teddy asked with a frown.

"It would appear not, love. But don't worry; Dr. Jacob is the best doctor I know. That's why you go to him."

"Oh well that's good. Uncle Harry will wake up soon," he stated proudly before returning his attention to his book, swinging his legs a little and leaving no room for an argument in his logic. Draco shared a look with his aunt but didn't comment.

Dr Jacob came around the curtain, clipboard in hand and a strange look on his face, "I don't really know how to tell you this," he began scratching absently on the bristly beard he was sporting. "It appears that your partner could have been drawn out of the coma within a month of being induced. Why he's been in one for this long is ... Well, let's just say negligence is too kind a word for it." He gave them both a point look, as though he was disappointed with the other healer's, "Unfortunately, he has been in a coma for a very long time without any medical reason."

"So what does that mean for him?" Draco asked, the back of his neck heating up uncomfortably.

With a heavy sigh, Dr Jacob kept his eyes on the chart in his hands, "It means that due to the prolonged state, the chances of him being brought out of the coma without brain damage are seriously minimal."

Draco pursed his lips together. Andromeda frowned heavily before clasping her hand over her mouth. "And ... the other results? On his ca- er -condition?"

"Well there's good news and there's bad news," the Doctor hedged.

"Okay so what's the good news?" Draco asked.

"The good news is that the cancer, by some miracle, hasn't spread to his lymph nodes," explained Jacob.

"What's the bad news?" Andromeda demanded in her maternal way, her eyes hardening a fraction.

"The bad news is that whatever treatment he was on before his ... break from the hospital, has not been resumed. The tumours do seem to have grown."

"Tumours?" Draco frowned, "Where are they?"

"There's a small one in his lungs and another on his gall bladder. We can remove the second one, if you do decide to go down the surgery route; however the one on his lungs should be able to shrink with an aggressive course of radiation."

"Aggressive?" Draco breathed out, his eyes brimming with hot, angry tears. He wanted to punch something, preferably one of the healer's in the face. Or crack their skulls against the pavement. Whichever one happened first.

"It would have to be. You've been lucky so far that the tumours haven't grown too drastically. However, if they do go untreated any longer then there will be a significant risk to his other organs." Jacob's face turned into one of empathy, "I know this is a difficult decision for you, Mr. Malfoy, but if you wish for your partner to get better to any degree, you'll need to make a decision by the end of the day."

Draco ran a hand down his voice and sighed, his body quaking with the effort to remain in control of his emotions. He licked his lips and tried to focus on something, anything, to keep his voice from quaking. "Start the radiation treatment," he breathed.

"Are you sure?" Dr Jacob asked.

Draco nodded, "Start it now while he's still in the coma. That way he won't be in any pain. I want you in here every day to do check-ups on him. I don't want any other healer's near him. If that's a problem with your other patients, I'll pay you anything you want. Just make sure that this man," he pointed down to where Harry lie, as pale as the pearly clouds outside, "Make sure that he has a fighting chance!"

"Draco," Andromeda hissed with a warning, as she stepped in front of Teddy and flicked her wand to cast a silent charm around him. "Control yourself, dear; you don't want to frighten Teddy."

Draco looked at her as though he didn't understand her words. His eyes glanced down to where Teddy was peering around Andromeda's legs, curious as to why he could no longer hear anything. Draco closed his eyes and raked a hand through his already messy hair, "You're right I'm sorry." He turned his attention back to Dr Jacob, "Whatever you wish, I'll pay it. I just want to make him better. Please?"

Dr Jacob inclined his head, "I can close my practice for a week, but no longer than that. I will have to call my partner in to help cover some of my early morning call-in appointments but there should be ways to work around that."

"Thank you," Draco reached out and clasped the man's hand, "I just ... He's been here for over a month with no treatment and in a magically induced coma so that the healer's don't have to actually bother feeding or talking to him. They deserve to get everything that's coming to them."

Dr Jacob inclined his head, "I will be back this evening in order to start the radiation treatment. I will also bring the forms for you to sign as well as to transfer the healer's rights to me."

"That sounds wonderful," Andromeda gave a rather tight smile. She looked as emotionally exhausted as Draco felt himself. "I will fire-call our lawyer tonight to arrange a meeting for tomorrow afternoon. We will need you there, too, Dr Jacob in order to be a third party person to confirm the misconduct and ill-treatment of Harry."

"In that case why don't we arrange to meet at the lawyer's office tomorrow at about 2pm? I have a half-day on Wednesdays anyway. Just owl me the address and I will attend, along with the copies of Harry's charts."

Andromeda had a quick word with the Doctor whilst she removed the charm from around Teddy, who had returned to reading his book. Draco settled down on the chair beside his little cousin and tried not to feel drained. It had been a long day. He'd barely slept the night before, for fear of how this meeting was going to go. He was glad that Harry's condition hadn't gotten too worse, however it he had been put on decent treatment and been monitored it could have all easily improved.

"Cousin Draco, are you sad because Uncle Harry isn't waking up today?" Teddy asked as he propped his book in his lap.

"A little, Teddy," Draco confessed, "But the doctor says that he might be able to make Harry better soon."

"Is he like the other healers who lie to you?" Teddy asked his voice dropping down as though confiding a dark secret.

Draco gave a small huff of laughter, "You know what, I don't think so. I think he's a good guy."

"Good," the young boy nodded his head, "Uncle Harry's had to deal with too many bad guys. He needs a good guy once in a while." He turned around to beam up at his cousin and hugged onto Draco's sleeve, "Just like you, Draco. Harry always said you used to be a bad guy with a heart of gold. You just got stuck on the wrong side of the fight."

That did it.

Draco sprung up from his chair, drawing attention to him. He barely heard any of them as he headed for the door.

"Did I say something wrong?" Teddy asked with wide, sad eyes as he watched his cousin run out of the room without a backwards glance.

~0~

They had taken their time travelling to Russia during the early days of September; they'd gotten on numerous trains and had 'hopped' along the country since Draco adamantly refused to fly again. It had taken almost another twenty-four hours with frequent stops for decent meals and to stretch their legs outside the train. However, for the last leg of their journey, Harry had relented and together they managed to find a middle-aged witch who assigned port-keys. They chose a one-way port-key to Russia's 'Red Square'.

They landed in a narrow alley just a little away from the Square itself. "What do we do with this?" Harry asked, holding the port-key in his palm. As if on cue, the small 'I Heart Russia' key-ring started smoking and vanished with a small pop. "Never mind," he grinned, blowing the few bits of dust off his hand before following Draco down the alley and out onto the main street.

Draco shifted the weight of his transfigured backpack before frowning, "Are we going to stay here for a night or not? Because I don't particularly fancy dragging all of my stuff around."

Harry shrugged and grinned, "Yeah sure, I think the map said there was a hotel around the other side of the square and down a couple of streets."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Well if we get lost, just use your wand."

"Sound good to me," Harry grinned as they started to make their across the large square, the large coloured domes of the Red Palace blocking out the sun.

The hotel they'd book on the train journey was only three stars but the interior more than made up for it. Draco has turned his nose up at it, but Harry had whacked him across the arm and told him to stop being so arrogant. They were only staying in the place for one evening after-all. It wasn't going to kill him. Draco had merely huffed and skulked alongside him as they wove through the plush carpeted hallways to their assigned room.

Harry slipped the key-card through the reader whilst Draco juggled both transfigured rucksacks in his arms, looking quite disgruntled at doing that. Harry bent the handle down and let the door swing inwards.

"What the fuck is that?" Draco snapped in shock.

Harry peered around the blonde's stuff figure and blanched a little at what he saw; there in the middle of the room where there should have been a set of twin beds, was one double bed facing the wardrobe with the built-in TV unit. "Oh Geez, it looks like we're going to have to share for the night," he stated with a shrug before turning to close the door.

Draco whirled around to glare down at the brunette, "What?"

Harry blinked, taken aback. "I ... I said it looks like we'll have to share for the night."

"Absolutely not!" Draco snapped, throwing the bags on the floor and adopting a domineering stance, "Go back downstairs and demand a different room from that snobbish cow behind the desk!"

Harry's expression barely changed from the shocked one he'd had since walking into the room. "Are you kidding me? Are you saying that you're that insecure that you can't share a bed with a friend for ONE night?"

"I'm saying that we PAID for a different room!"

"Well ... Okay maybe we didn't, you don't know yet. Let me check the email," Harry stated with a sigh as he pulled out his muggle mobile. It was one of the few things that Harry had allowed Hermione into pressuring him to get. He grimaced at having to use his date since that charges were going to be ridiculous, but he didn't have the WiFi password, and there was no way he was going to go down and try to ask the desk-girl. Once he'd gotten through to the confirmation e-mail, he tried his best to get the best translator.

And there was the problem.

"Er ... you know, I think it was a translation problem," Harry clenched his jaw in embarrassment as he turned the data off and pocketed his phone again. He didn't want to look up at the fuming blonde.

"A. _Translation._ Problem?!" he sneered. He clenched his fingers into fists, the veins in his throat throbbed. "That's not good enough!"

"Then you go down and complain about it!" Harry snarled back, his temper finally breaking.

Draco flinched a little but tried not to show it as he continued to glare down at the brunette. This was great, this was familiar territory; fighting with Harry. He shouldn't have enjoyed it but he couldn't deny the rush that crashed through his veins. "I wasn't the one who made the mistake!"

"Well neither was I!" Harry shouted, his skin flushing an angry red.

Draco opened his mouth to argue but then promptly closed it. It was true; it wasn't necessarily Harry's fault. Neither of them spoke Russian after all. Taking deep breaths through his nose he tried to count to ten through the roar of his own blood in his ears. His palms were sweaty and then sun that filtered into the room half-blinded him. He shuddered before opening his eyes and looked down at Harry a little more calmly. "You're right, it wasn't your fault. I suppose it wouldn't hurt for _one_ night," he stressed. Turning to the bed, he exhaled loudly before planting his hands on his hips, "I suppose we could put one of the pillows down the middle, between us."

"What, so one of us needs to lose out on a pillow?"

Draco shrugged as he glanced over his shoulder, "Like you said, it's only for one night."

Harry glared, though the fire that had been in those green eyes a moment ago had long since died out. Finally, he sighed and raked a hand through his hair, "Fine. You do what you want; I'm going to take a shower."

"Well don't take too long. I need to wash that last train journey off me. I didn't actually think a woman could smell that much. Aren't they meant to be the cleaner ones?"

"Woah sexist much?" Harry stated, shock clearly stamped on his face.

Draco looked innocently at him. "Well ... _Aren't_ they?"

Harry rolled his eyes and flicked his wand with a murmured 'accio' charm. A towel shot out of his rucksack and whomped against his chest. He snatched it before it fell to the floor before turning towards the bathroom, "Whatever you say, Draco."

That evening once they were both washed and dressed, they set out from the hotel at about 5pm and decided to head out to see a couple of tourist sites before they closed for the night. Draco had let Harry browse online and search through a lot of the top rated ones. He had no idea about what could be done in Russia, but he was sure they'd fine something to do in the few hours they had. Harry had to be discreet with his wand as he had to keep asking it for directions, but Draco didn't mind being the lookout when Harry ducked into an alley, facing a wall to look like he was peeing, a vulgar habit Draco had sneered at when he'd first seen it happen, before they'd set off again.

"Are you going to tell me where you're going?" Draco asked as he quickened to a brisk walk to keep up with the hurrying brunette at his side.

"You'll see soon enough. Did you manage to find a decent jumper?" he asked with a sideways glance up at the blonde who had spent half an hour being frustrated at the lack of jumper choices for his current 'perfect' outfit. Draco sniffed haughtily and ignored the jibe. They walked for another couple of minutes before they came to a low building that looked rather dark. Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. It looked really shady.

"Potter, where have you taken us?" he asked tightly.

"Just go on in, you'll like it. Promise," Harry smiled reassuringly, as he nudged Draco in the small of his back.

Together, they entered the building with a small group of other people and the door was closed behind them. "What's going on?" Draco hissed as the small group shuffled down a narrow hallway and was led through another door. The temperature dropped dramatically as they shuffled through into a dark room. It seemed like a big room, even in the very dim glow of the low lights.

He almost jumped when he felt Harry's fingers wrap around his forearm, "Just wait. You'll see soon."

"I hate all this cloak and dagger nonsense," the blonde muttered, more to himself as he saw vapour rise out of his mouth. Harry merely chuckled beside him as a man in a thick parka came up in from of them and announced something in a thick Russian accent. Thankfully there was also an English translator who, with a heavy accent, explained the brief history of the gallery they were in.

Once both of their guides had finished talking, they clapped their gloved hands together and a series of lights flared to life. They shone up through the floor and, as it happened, the base of numerous ice sculptures that were delicately placed in the gallery. Draco felt his chest grow tight at the translucent sculptures poised so beautifully under the gentle blue, green, white and pink lights that eased from one colour to the next.

Members of the group drifted through the small walkways woven between the sculptures. Harry nudged him in the small of his back, so he let his feet shuffle in front of him as they started to move around. As he moved around, he turned his head this way and that, desperate to take in as much as he could physically see in one go. His mother would love to be there with them, seeing all these beautiful creations the muggles made. "Harry ..." he breathed, "This is beautiful! How did you ever think of coming here?"

Harry smiled a little, his cheeks and the end of his nose a little pink, "I didn't really. I just researched the top ten tourist places to see in Moscow."

Draco looked down at him and smiled, "Well I am certainly impressed. You'll have to teach me that inter-webby thing some time."

"Internet," Harry chuckled as they moved around, the cold air rushing off the sculptures and making them shiver, unintentionally leaning closer together for warmth.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Whatever."

They walked around the rest of the gallery for what felt like a good couple of hours, their feet gradually numbing at the low temperature and their teeth starting to chatter. Draco had butterflies in his stomach at being able to show his mother the wonderful evening Harry had planned. Not to mention, it wasn't even over yet. As soon as they got outside, they unfastened their coats as the warm night air rushed over them.

"That's better," Harry stated as he fanned some air onto his flushed cheeks. He turned his beaming face up to the blonde, "So? Did you like it?"

Draco smirked and inclined his head, "I did. In fact, I really think mother will like the memories when I send a few to her."

"I'm glad. I thought it would be something for you to enjoy and send her."

"Okay so where are we going now?" Draco asked as they started to veer away from the gallery they'd just left. They walked briskly through the winding streets until they came out to the Red Square one again before turning off down another avenue.

"I figured that you'd like something a little more high class to entertain us, but until then we can have dinner before the show," Harry smiled at the blonde, avoiding eye contact as they all-but marched through the streets.

Draco couldn't pronounce the name of the restaurant even if his life depended on it, but the atmosphere was sophisticated and classic, something he hadn't expected for some reason. Translating the menu was awkward at best, but thankfully the waiter was able to speak some English. The only thing that made Draco uncomfortable was just how close he was being to Harry; he held onto the back of his chair when Harry was sitting down to the table, and had his hand on Harry's back a little too long as they spoke, as though they had known one another for years. Thankfully, Harry didn't seem too interested in the waiter, even if he did swing that way.

Draco blinked the thoughts away. Why did it matter who Harry liked to fuck? He was his own person, and after all that suppressed sexual tension, if he wanted to have it off with a Russian waiter then why not? Then why did that leave such a sickening feeling in his stomach? Readjusting his position he refocused his attention on the conversation Harry was holding up on his own.

"Sorry," he shook his head, "I drifted off there for a little bit."

Harry gave a sweet smile, "It's alright, I was just listing off the numerous places Ron's gotten his head stuck during auror training. You wouldn't have been interested."

"Oh right," Draco murmured whilst a voice in his head was screaming, ' _GODDAMNIT! PAY ATTENTION!'_

"I was thinking that, maybe we could take a day-trip to Thailand in a couple of days."

"Only a day trip?" Draco asked with a heavy frown.

Harry nodded as two waitresses came over and set their food down in front of them; a steaming pasta dish for Harry and a lemon-drizzled fish for Draco. "OH definitely, I don't think I want to risk staying there over-night. We'd probably lose most of our money on whatever tourist things they have there."

"Well if we go there early enough we can spend the whole day doing tourist things and see some sights and then, well ... I may consider going on one of those plane things again."

Harry gave him a sympathetic look, "We can just as easily port-key if you prefer. It's definitely the more cost-effective option."

Draco pulled a face before leaning back in his chair. He suddenly felt guilty and a little tense; an ice sculpture gallery and a dinner at such an exquisite restaurant clearly wasn't cheap, not to mention what else the brunette had planned. So far the only thing Draco had been able to afford were a few meagre postcards and the port-keys they'd taken. He felt like he was leeching off of Harry and that made him feel minuscule. Usually he was the one splashing his money away, but in a much more indiscreet manner. Somehow Harry had managed to do it for a solid month without as much as an hour of gloating.

"I feel inadequate," he confessed quietly, "I'm not used to someone ... paying for me."

Harry reached over and squeezed his forearm, "Draco, honestly, I'm more than happy to pay. You can just ... treat me or something when they unfreeze your accounts."

"Treat you?" Draco frowned, the phrase sticking to the roof of his mouth.

"Yeah, like we can go and do something once we get back home. Something you pay for."

Draco felt his insides squirm. Harry's hand was still on his own and the skin was burning hot underneath. The brunette finally leaned away and took his hand with him. Draco's skin felt naked and exposed, as though a layer had been removed without his knowledge. It sounded logical, after-all. As they continued to eat they talked about light topics and the potential plans over the Christmas holidays when they got back to England. Draco smiled wistfully every now and then but couldn't deny the emotions swirling around him.

They were in a nice place, a nice play that he hadn't paid for at all. Money was of no real consequence at present, and afterwards they were going to another surprise that was most likely not the cheapest in the world.

Was this a ... date?

For the remainder of the meal the question echoed in his skull. They sipped their wine and after dessert, they left with their light coats draped over their shoulders. They found a taxi and drove for about twenty minutes; however when they stepped out onto the cobbled streets in front of the theatre, Draco felt his heart stutter in his chest.

"The Bolshoi Ballet?" he turned a stunned expression to the shorter brunette man. "Are you ... Why are you doing this?"

Harry stopped and blinked in confusion, "I thought you'd like it."

"I do I'm just ... I can't ... This is too much, Harry." He shook his sleek blonde hair and cast his eyes back up to the theatre, "I just ... I've always wanted to come here. How did you know?"

Harry gave a meek shrug, "Your mother. She mentioned a couple of things you wanted to do after Hogwarts but, ultimately, never got to do."

Draco stared up at the bright lights, his eyes glossing over with tears. "I ... I don't know what to say," he finally murmured, "This is amazing."

"Do you want to go in?" Harry chuckled, leading the way up towards the main doors, "Because if you do I have the tickets and you sort of need those to get in."

Draco shook himself out of his amazement as he followed Harry up into the main doors. After they'd hung up their coats and were guided to their seats inside the theatre, Draco admonished himself to being so tightly wound about Harry spending his money. If it had been the other way around he doubted Harry was questioning his motives. It wasn't a date; it was just one friend paying for an adventure they could both enjoy.

It was definitely _not_ a date.

* * *

 **A/N: Well there's another chapter! Hope you've enjoyed it!**


	10. Thailand & Tea

**A/N: Thank you for all the lovely reviews and support! Also a big thanks to FanofBellaandEdward for proof-reading this for me!**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine:**

 **Thailand and Tea**

"Cousin Draco! Cousin Draco! Hurry up it's time to watch Dr. Who!"

Draco grumbled and turned away from the high-pitched excitement of his little cousin bouncing around his bedroom, Seeker barking along with him. If dogs could grin, Seeker was wearing a shit-eating one right now. Draco grunted again and burrowed further under his covers. "Go away you little brat or I'll get rid of the TV!"

Teddy gasped and stopped bouncing on the end of the bed. Draco smirked under his covers before the air was knocked out of him by Teddy collapsing down next to him. Seeker huffed and settled back down onto the floor. The air was silent until Teddy spoke up in a quieter voice, "Cousin Draco are we going to take Harry to the new healer today?"

Draco sighed softly before pulling the covers down and rolling over onto his back. He stretched his arm out so that Teddy could wriggle over and rest his head sideways onto Draco's chest. He wrapped his arm around Teddy's shoulders, hugging him close. "Yes, love, that's what we plan on doing. This new healer thinks he can make Harry better."

"Not like the last ones?" Teddy grumbled.

"No," Draco smiled thinly, "Not like the last ones. You like this healer, don't you? He looks after you and your Grandmother."

Teddy nodded with renewed vigour, "Yes he's nice to us. He makes me feel good."

"You see?" Draco smiled pressing a kiss to the child's dull blonde hair, "He knows not to mess with us. I promise you Harry will be better."

Teddy turned up to Draco with those eyes -Harry's eyes. So familiar and yet so solemn in the face of a ten-year-old. His breath caught in his throat. "Uncle Harry always said to never make promises you can't keep."

Draco nodded, "I know, love." He wrapped his arms around Teddy and cuddled him close, rocking gently. He gave one final squeeze before leaning away, "Why don't you go put on 'Dr Who' and I'll make us some breakfast?"

Teddy gave a small smile, "Okay. Come on Seeker!" his hair flashed bright blue as he hopped off the end of the bed, Seeker hurrying after him. Draco watched them go with a small smile before heaving a heavy sigh and shifting to get out of bed. He'd agreed to look after Teddy on this particular day whilst Andromeda talked things over with the family lawyer. She would be coming over around midday to get Draco to sign the necessary papers before they went to meet Dr. Jacob at the hospital. He couldn't wait to see the look on the healers' faces when they took Harry out of St. Mungo's.

Raking a hand through his hair he padded through the apartment to the kitchen where he started to make dippy eggs and toast soldiers. Harry had loved making it for Teddy's breakfast, and Draco refused to break with their little tradition. He was just pouring himself a cup of black coffee with two sugars -he needed it for the day he was going to have -when there was a knock on the door. Glancing at the clock he frowned. 10:10am. Andromeda was far too early.

"Here you go, Teddy. Don't spill anything on the sofa," he warned as he carried Teddy's breakfast to him and set it down on the coffee table with a glass of orange juice.

"Thank you Draco!" he chirruped, his eyes instantly glued back to the TV screen. Draco ruffled his hair and went to answer the front door.

As soon as he opened the door he was almost forced back as Hermione strolled through the door without an invitation. Ron edged inside looking as though he didn't know if he should be there at all. He caught Draco's eye and gave a sigh and a helpless shrug before giving the blonde enough room to close the front door.

"Please come in," he drawled before closing the door with a firm slam. He came to the end of the hallway where Hermione was standing with her hands on her hips. Her few fly-away hairs were clearly the result of a firm wind. The smell of cold air clung to both of them. "To what do I owe this displeasure?" he finally asked when it was clear that Hermione was simply waiting for him to bait her.

Hermione huffed as though he'd just observed something pathetic. "You know perfectly well what. A certain healer has told me that you had another doctor come in to check on Harry."

"So what?" Draco said, looking between the two of them; Hermione looked offended and Ron just looked as though he was defeated in the matter. ' _At least one of them learns_ ,' Draco thought bitterly. He folded his arms across his chest, "I am allowed to get a second opinion on my fiancées health, Hermione."

"Why do you need a second opinion? The healer's know what they're doing, Draco!"

"Do they now?" he asked calmly, frowning over at her. His tone had clearly stunned her, making her clamp her mouth shut. She didn't know what he knew. Of course she didn't. "Well then would you like to tell me why it appears since he was put into the coma that they haven't checked on him? They've given him a cursory glance at best!"

"You're exaggerating!" she cried.

"I AM NOT!" He hadn't meant to shout, not with Teddy in the next room, but her attitude was really grinding on his nerves, especially at such an early hour. "Harry is in the hospital day after day; he's not getting any treatment, he's just THERE! No medication, no treatment, no CARE! So I'm sorry if I've offended you, Hermione, I truly am that I give two shits about what state of life my husband is going to have!"

"Are you saying I don't care!" she snapped back, her shrill voice ripping through the air.

"Hermione enough!" Ron shouted, his loud voice stunning her into silence. Draco let himself deflate a fraction as all eyes turned to the redhead. He was frowning heavily between the two of them, before turning to his wife. "Hermione, let's be realistic here. Maybe Draco has a point."

"I do?"

"What?" she asked quietly, her voice showing just how angry she was.

"Well let's think about it; we haven't even seen him since he was last admitted. We haven't checked his charts or been there day after day, like Draco has. Maybe it's not such a bad idea to get a second opinion on how to care for him."

"Ron, we don't need more help or opinions!" she stressed, "If there was more we could do, the healer's would have told us by now!"

Draco rolled his eyes at that. Even Ron looked close to doing the same. "Hermione, don't you think that this is the logical solution? When you trial a new medication or try to pass a new law, do you make just one strategy? No; you have a plan A and a plan B and C just in case the first one is wrong, or doesn't go as planned."

"But ..." she stopped and dropped her eyes to the floor. Her eyes looked shiny but from his current angle Draco couldn't be certain. He was still in shock that Ron had said something logical for a change. Normally he cowed in such situations.

The heavy atmosphere was shattered by a meek little voice saying, "Draco?"

All eyes turned to see Teddy peering around the corner of the hallway, his hair a shock of glossy white hair. His large eyes were wide and blue, making him look even younger. Draco felt his anger get stamped down as he brushed passed a guilty looking Hermione to crouch down in front of the young boy. "Sorry, love, did we disturb your show?"

Teddy nodded before giving a dark look over at Hermione. "Yes," he replied tightly. He looked back to Draco and bit his lip before asking, "They're not coming to see Uncle Harry, are they?"

Draco gave a stiff smile before shaking his head, "No, Teddy-bear, they won't."

"Good," the boy sniffed, "I don't want Uncle Harry getting upset." He turned with another dark look up at the two Weasley's before returning to the living room and his TV show.

Draco sighed and ran a hand down his face before he cast a silencing charm around them. He turned back to look at Ron who looked as though he felt horrible whereas Hermione had shed a tear. "Draco, I'm so sorry I had no idea he was here!" she wept.

"Get out," he replied darkly, his voice low and menacing as he lifted his eyes to glare at her.

"Draco I'm sorry! It was an accident! I didn't know you were looking after him again!" her lips trembled and tears hurried down her pink cheeks.

He rolled his eyes, "Why would you? The last few weeks have been nothing but you barging into my life this way and that and trying to insist that you know what's best for Harry. You need to accept that those days are long, long gone."

"He's right, Hermione," Ron murmured agreeably.

"But he can't be!" she stressed in a softer tone, her cheeks flushing pink and her eyes watering even more.

"Why not?" Draco asked stiffly before frowning deeper, "Why are you so desperate for me to be wrong?"

She raked a hand through her hair, "Because if I'm wrong about ... about ... Well everything, then that means you were right!"

"Y-e-s," he answered slowly, glancing briefly at Ron to try and gauge what she meant. "I still don't understand."

"Don't you see?" she rubbed at her eyes, "If I was wrong then that means I've made you waste precious time that could have been used to get him proper help and care!"

Ron reached over and pulled his wife into a hug against his chest. She curled herself into him and unleashed the tears and wailing that she'd clearly pent up for a while. Draco was suddenly very glad he'd cast the silencing charm. He leaned against the wall, his temples throbbing a little as he let Ron calm her down. After another while she finally stood up on her own, wiped her cheeks and eyes down before inhaling deeply to try and properly calm herself.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" he finally asked, the fight leaving him.

"I think we all need one," Ron finally said as Hermione nodded and sniffed through what could have been a very awkward laugh.

Draco waved his wand and removed the silencing charm. He waved the two of them into the kitchen before turning to go back into the living room where Teddy was slouched over, empty plate in front of him, and glaring at the end credits of 'Dr. Who'. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, kiddo," he finally said, slouching down beside the child.

"It's fine," he grumbled.

"I know it's not, but I want to say sorry anyway. How about tonight we watch a movie with some ice cream? Your choice." Bribery, the lowest of the low, but he was desperate.

Teddy shrugged a shoulder before muttering, "'Kay." Draco was about to leave when Teddy wriggled over and settled against Draco's chest under his arm. He wrapped his arm around Teddy's shoulders and hugged him close.

He buried his nose into the kid's soft blue hair and sighed, "I promise it will get better, Teddy-bear." Teddy didn't reply, he merely squeezed Draco back as hard as he physically could.

~0~

"I feel ridiculous!" Draco's voice resounded from the other side of the curtain.

"You don't have to buy them!" Harry called back as he idly plucked at a price label on a nearby item and mentally trying to convert the currency. "I just said it would probably be a good idea for you to get at least two pairs!"

"They are idiotic!" snapped the blonde.

Harry rolled his eyes and wondered away from the changing rooms. They had gone to a shopping centre as soon as they'd gotten to Thailand a few days later. There was a small part of him that was just as bored as Draco; however he did need to do something. He needed to buy some extra things for himself, even if it was just a silly t-shirt. Harry had googled things on his phone and had found some beautiful botanical gardens and thought it would make some lovely memories to send off to Narcissa.

"Either buy them or don't buy them!" Harry finally snapped back, his face splitting into a dopey grin, most likely due to the heat wave Thailand was currently experiencing. "Can you just make up your mind so we can go? Lot's to do and very little time to do it in!"

"Fine!" came the grumpy response. There was the sound of clothes being thrown around and finally, the curtain snapped back to reveal an incredibly irate and pink Draco Malfoy holding two pairs of beach shorts in his hand. His knuckles were flashing white. Harry almost felt sorry for the shorts. "There, these are the two least offensive," he tossed the shorts over at Harry who, luckily, caught them before they got dirtied on the floor.

"Least offensive?" Harry eyed the shorts he was holding, "What did you leave behind?"

"Something that looked like your Weasel's had vomited on them," the blonde sneered under his breath.

Harry rolled his eyes but didn't rise to the bait. Instead he took the shorts over to the counter and, after a lot of awkwardness, managed to pay for the shorts and left with what he hoped was the correct change. The heat outside was stifling. Harry felt as though his breath had been ripped from his chest. Draco on the other hand looked like he had been dropped in boiling water.

"Can we stop somewhere?" Harry finally tugged on his arm, pulling the blonde to a stop.

"What for?" he asked as they came to a stop in the shade of a large apartment complex.

"Sun-cream, obviously. You might want to look like a sunburned strawberry, but I'm not prepared to have any memories like that going to your mother."

Draco eyed him shrewdly for a moment before relenting and taking the rucksack off his back, "Fine, I don't exactly want my mother to look at me like that. I don't like the idea of her seeing me in these hideous shorts," he sneered, holding the bag with the offending garment aloft, "However, I am prepared to make that sacrifice. Having my skin turning red is another matter."

Harry snickered lightly as the blonde rubbed cream into his skin. The brunette snickered as he did the same, "Not to mention it would clash horribly with your hair."

Draco glared down at the brunette before he rubbed cream into his face. "There, I'm ready. Let's get a move-on. We have a lot to do today and I want to make it to Turkey by at least seven tonight so we can relax."

Harry nodded, "I think that sounds like a great idea. Do you want to shrink the bags down smaller with a weightless charm?"

Casting a quick look down either end of the alley, Draco pressed up against the side-wall and hissed, "Alright but quickly. Let's try not getting caught okay?"

The brunette boy was cautious as he deftly added a weightless charm and shrunk the back a little more to make it more manageable for the blonde. "There all done," he patted the rucksack, slipping his wand in the holster he kept strapped to his leg out of sight under his chinos, and together they walked out of the alley and headed towards the bustling wide strip of glowing shop windows, tall, shining buildings and flashing billboard images.

"Bloody hell this is all so bright!" Draco stated, his eyes roaming over all the bright images flashing back and forth on the sides of the buildings.

"I wasn't expecting this," Harry said as he pulled a face, the brightness and tightly packed crowd of people making him feel like he was about to be trampled to death. Glancing over at Draco's perplexed face, he decided to take charge. "Alright come on, the train leads down to the gardens should be down this way, and if you want we can stop off to get something to eat down there?"

"What will we eat?" Draco asked, wrinkling his nose.

"We'll find something for you. We can get something ... Like noodles. It won't fill you up but we can have a bigger meal tonight."

The blonde man didn't say a whole lot as they made their way over to the tram-stop and waited for one to take them to the botanical gardens. Once they got there they bought an afternoon pass for the gardens and spent their time enjoying the large, whimsical plants that didn't even breathe the same air as British plants. The koi ponds that were dotted around the greenery were accompanied by the gentle sound of trickling water. It truly was breath taking.

Harry even took the camera out of his bag and snapped a few muggle photos of Draco crouching down in his quarter-lengths and dipping his fingers into the pond. He looked truly happy. It was a sight so rare that Harry needed to preserve it forever.

Later that afternoon, once they'd walked around the majority of the gardens, they stopped off at a small cafe on-site and decided to try some of the safest sounding foods. Despite the fact that they ended up eating squid and tuna which Draco was not too fond of. Salmon, he would've preferred but he tried not to complain too much since Harry was the one paying.

By the time they had snacked, paid, eaten and seen everything they'd wanted to see, they decided to get the tram back to where they'd apparated in to. They returned to the same alley with the new co-ordinates for their resort in Turkey. As the sun cast long, bloody shadows long the roads a little way away from them, Draco smiled down at Harry, "That was certainly an adventure ... But I can't wait to get into a nice, soft bed!"

"We'll be there soon. Grab onto the port-key. One ... Two ... Three!"

With a crack they were gone.


	11. Turkey & Transfers

**A/N: Thank you for all the lovely reviews and support! Also a big thanks to FanofBellaandEdward for proof-reading this for me!**

* * *

 **Chapter Ten:**

 **Turkey and Transfers**

Draco couldn't remember the last time he had felt so hollow.

He had spent the majority of the previous evening crying at all the things that could go wrong as they transported Harry to his own private hospital room in a semi-magical facility just north of St. Mungo's. Everything was in place but it didn't make the experience any less daunting. A hand resting on his shoulder brought him back to reality, and his breathing stuttered stiffly in his chest. He turned to see his mother and aunt standing side-by-side, wearing identical expressions of drawn eyes and pursed lips. He let out a soft sigh and returned his gaze to his partner lying in the bed, a blue aura surrounding him as they prepared to move him.

Draco needed to stay close to help stabilize Harry's already weakened magic.

The transfer itself ended up being quick and painless. He merely remembered several long stretches of hallway, his gaze having remained on the floor.

The private building was fairly similar to St. Mungo's only the colour decor was different. The atmosphere was also incredibly different; instead of suffocating and sterile, the air actually smelled sweet and the atmosphere didn't appear tense at all. The room they wheeled Harry into was smaller than the room at St. Mungo's however it was bathed in a soft, summery light and had subtle shades of cream and primrose pink on the walls. It felt a lot startcalmer; it felt like there was some hope after all.

He swallowed thickly as the doctor closed the door once Harry was settled in and picked up the blank clipboard at the end of the bed. Draco busied himself with adjusting Harry's blankets before Dr. Jacob cleared his throat, "Well before the rest of your relatives get here, I'd like to discuss a few things with you in private, Mr. Malfoy."

"Okay," Draco said before drawing his eyes away from the breathing tube threaded down his lover's throat, "What things?"

"Well first I need you to consent to us running some more diagnostic tests and to put a temporary hold on Mr. Potter's chemotherapy," Dr. Jacob stated, "the lack of radiation in his system will help us to establish better results for his next step in recovery."

Draco frowned and tried to piece the information together in his foggy head. It had been a rough couple of days. "How much will that set him back if he still needs the chemo?"

Dr. Jacob inclined his head, "It will set his recovery back at least another month, however as soon as we run these diagnostic tests we shall start him on a low dose of chemotherapy just to help him through until we've learned more."

Draco sighed and felt the uncomfortable tightness grow in his chest again. He didn't want Harry to take longer to recover, if this was indeed the direction his treatment was going to take him, but what else could he do? No one seemed to know his state of health at the moment and if his best hope was Dr. Jacob, then what choice did he have? "I'll consent to it for the sake of the tests. However only until the end of the month. Then he'll get another round of chemotherapy and continue his treatment, are we clear?"

Dr. Jacob nodded before drawing out his wand and murmuring something over the contract. Draco took the clipboard and read through the corrected contract twice, before taking the pen offered to him and writing his signature at the bottom. The doctor have a tight smile before relaxing his shoulders, "I know this is a hard time for you, Mr. Malfoy, but rest assured you're in the best possible hands."

Draco fixed the doctor with a firm stare. "I've been promised happy endings and rainbows for far too long, doctor. Just do everything you can within your power and we'll be on good times."

"I'll do what I can. We'll begin the tests this afternoon and go from there."

Without another word, the doctor left the private room, leaving Draco alone with his comatose lover. Sinking down into the nearby armchair that was incredibly plush and allowed him to sink right down, he finally felt some of the kinks ease out of his tight muscles. He rested his chin in his hand and for a while, he simply sat there staring across the meter distance at Harry's profile.

After a moment's silence he let out a soft sigh, "When did it all get so hard, Harry?" he murmured. "I never thought I'd have to be here, stuck in a hospital and waiting for more tests to be run."

Harry, obviously, didn't reply.

Draco almost smiled at the thought that he would have.

Rubbing at his eyes, he withdrew his wand and cast a soft 'tempus' and suppressed a sigh. It wasn't even midday yet and he was already weary from the transfer. Dr. Jacob had promised along the way that the rest of the family would get in to see Harry later during the day once the initial tests were started. He didn't mind it all, not really. It just left him feeling rather empty. That there probably wasn't enough time for all of the results to come back before Harry tapered away before his very eyes.

He wanted to tear his hair out as he twisted the ring around on his left ring-finger. It wasn't his, it was Harry's. He kept it with him always, just so he could carry some part of his love with him wherever he went. He was growing old as the seconds passed him by, and he loathed that feeling.

They had always promised that they were going to do that together.

~0~

"Okay next time we go somewhere, can we please go somewhere that I'M NOT going to get burnt?!" Draco sneered as he bent over backwards, more or less, to rub a healing salve over his skin to get the rawest of the sunburn.

" _Well I keep telling you to remember the lotion but you constantly refuse!_ " Harry called back through the bathroom door of their hotel suite, " _What do you want me to do? Force you?"_

Draco dropped his head down and ground his teeth together. There were so many things he could say –or throw –at the raven-haired nitwit outside, but he wasn't about to dignify the idiot's ignorance with a retort. Not yet anyway. He'd prefer to do that when his body wasn't on fire and his skin didn't feel like cracked leather. After another five minutes perched on the toilet seat, Draco felt his skin return to its previous, pearly whiteness and ease before he sighed with relief.

As he walked out of the bathroom, he saw that Harry had already unpacked their belongings into the chest-of-drawers and wardrobe. Their trunks were neatly stashed off to one side. The tension he'd felt coiled in his stomach unwound a little more as he walked over to one of the twin beds and settled down on the end.

The décor of the room was soft and classic; white walls loomed over them on all four sides, the marble tiled floors were cool underfoot, a welcomed changed from the hot air drifting in through the open windows. The sky beyond the voile curtains was a vivid blue that made him squint and blink to try and let his brain register such a brilliant colour.

A low humming sound caught his attention. It was drifting in on the breeze through the open balcony doors.

Standing up on his legs, Draco slowly moved over to the door and leaned on the frame. Harry was seated at the white iron table and reclining back in the matching chair, a bright blue pillow under his thighs as he looked out over the horizon through his sunglasses. He looked so calm, with his darkening tan, his wind-swept hair and a soft expression on his face. Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the Golden Boy look like that. He hadn't looked that way at all during their time at school. Then again Draco didn't want to see anyone who looked calm when they had the Dark Lord hunting them down year-in and year-out.

"What do you fancy doing tonight?" he finally asked as he settled down in the spare chair, stretching his long, pale legs out into the warm sunshine. The hairs on his legs burned a bright blonde as they gleamed in the light.

Harry wrinkled his nose in thought before shrugging, "We can see what the night life is like. Although I wouldn't mind doing something during the day. I don't really fancy being cooped inside the hotel again."

"This is a nice hotel," Draco protested.

"It is," the brunette conceded, "but there's so much else we can go and explore. Come on, where's your sense of adventure?"

Draco rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile. "Well … There is something I've read up about muggles doing. Something they always seem to tend to do if they're rich or on holiday or both. Since we're on holiday at the very least, we could check it out?"

"Okay," Harry twitched a smile, "What is it?"

"Do you think we'd be able to rent a boat or … what do they call it? A yacht for the day?"

To his heartache he watched as Harry's smile dropped off his face. "You see, the thing is … I wouldn't know how much that would cost."

Draco felt his expression grow blank, "So? I thought you said that money was no object? You know my mother will reimburse you for anything too extravagant."

Harry gave a small chuckle, "Yeah I guess she would. Well alright, let me get my laptop set up and we and look-up how much all of this will cost for the day."

Draco rolled his eyes, "That's very nice of you, but there were leaflets about day-trip excursions down in the reception area. It might be less time-consuming to just … go down there."

"Okay give me five minutes."

Within half an hour they had managed to get enough information and a location of where to rent a yacht. It had taken a lot of planning but Harry had insisted that there was no point in them having said yacht for the day unless they were able to make proper use of it. That's how they ended up with the idea of a party. Draco wasn't keen on the idea at all. There was no one he could really invite from his side of life and Harry to admit he felt foolish now that he'd only be inviting his own friends, most of which hated Draco being in his life.

In the end, they decided that it wasn't worth their time and effort in buying return port-keys just for an evening. Instead, they found that they could get a small yatch rented for a much cheaper price. Since neither of them had any professional of basic training, Harry ended up calling and booking the day with a driver for the boat itself.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Draco asked the following day as he frowned heavily up at the sailor who was going to be their guide along the coast.

Harry rolled his eyes and grinned as he adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. "All you do is pout, you know that?" he turned to walk over to the edge of the dock where he grasped the driver's hand and hopped over onto the desk of the boat. He turned to watch as Draco did the same, his muscles extremely tense as he stepped down onto the deck beside the brunette. "See, you got onto the boat –that wasn't so bad was it?"

Draco glared down at his companion. Even through the sunglasses Harry could feel the heat of those mercury eyes. "Don't push it, Potter, or I'll throw you overboard."

Harry snickered, "Oh come on, you think that's not going to happen today?"

Draco blinked, taken-aback as they went below deck on the captains orders to put their bags out of the way. "What do you mean?" the blonde asked as he set his bag down, taking care to pocket the sun-cream in the pocket of his blue floral swimming trunks that hung loosely on his hips.

"We're on a boat on the coast of Turkey –I don't know about you but I plan on taking my snorkel and my flippers and doing some underwater sight-seeing."

Draco blanched a little, "Swimming … in the sea? Really? Are you sure it's safe?"

Harry tilted his head to the side, "you don't have to do it if you don't want to. We can just jump in and relax in the water for a little while."

Draco didn't look convinced but he didn't say anything more as he coated himself in a good layer of sun-cream, watching over his shoulder as Harry did the same, before the brunette grabbed his camera from his bag and led the way back up onto the deck. Settling down onto one of the sun-loungers, Draco positioned his glasses on his nose and reclined back in the brilliant sunshine, the fresh, salt air cleansing his lungs and his mind. It shocked him how refreshed he felt. It almost took his breath away.

Harry kept him company for a while before the sun seemed to get too hot for him. However, instead of going into the shade and reading his book, he got up and stretched; Draco had to drop his gaze away as the sun gleamed over those toned muscles from years of playing Quidditch and running for his life. His shadow passed over Draco, momentarily shielding him from the sun, before the sound of something breaking the water caught his attention.

Glancing up Draco noticed that Harry was no longer on the desk.

His heart caught in his throat as he threw his book down and hurried over to the side of the boat and leaning over to look into the sea, just as Harry's head broke the surface for air. His laughter made Draco sneer, "What the bloody hell do you think you're playing at you utter prat?"

Harry grinned up at him, "I got hot so I came in here to cool off."

Draco rolled his eyes, "How're you even doing that? Where're your glasses?"

Harry gave him a deadpan look that told him not to be stupid. Draco swallowed his tongue, fully aware of the captain hovering just within earshot. "Get out of there," he finally snapped.

Harry shook his head, "Come in. It's lovely!"

"There is nothing you could say or do that will get me into that filthy toilet with you!" he ground out haughtily before turning his back on the brunette and deciding to retire to his lounger and read a little more. He was really hooked on those stupid muggle books. He was so absorbed by the book that he didn't pay attention to the shadow that felt across him, nor how the air had suddenly cooled down. He did, however, pay attention to the drops of water that fell down onto his bare chest. Glancing up he saw that Harry was leaning over him, looking like a drowned dog and grinning just as wide. "Potter …" he growled out, "Don't you dare."

Apparently Harry was now deaf as well as dumb. The next thing the blonde man knew was that the surprisingly strong brunette had hauled him up off the lounger and had breezed right over to the side of the boat. He barely paused for breath before he leapt off. Draco let out a raw, slightly feminine cry, and swallowed a ton of water as the sea swallowed them up, crashing closed over their heads as they sank under the surface.

Draco forced Harry's arms away before he kicked his legs as hard as he could to get up to the surface for hair. He didn't care that the water was cool and soothing on his skin, cleared his head and soaked through to his very core and cleansing him off the idiotic nonsense that clogged his mind and his system.

"You prick!" he spluttered out as he wiped salt water out of his eyes and cuffed his runny nose, "You stupid utter prick! Why the hell would you do that to me?"

Harry squirted water out of his mouth and shuddered, "You're always so uptight. I thought you could cool down a little."

Draco glared over at him, "And you think dunking me into this cesspit was a great idea?"

"Yes," Harry countered, "Come on just relax a little. Float on your back, you'll enjoy it I promise." Draco huffed and swam back towards the ladder so he could claw his way back up onto the desk. Harry swam over quickly and grasped the blonde's ankle. Draco stopped on the ladder, swallowed his rather salty anger, and glanced down at the brunette bobbing in the bright blue water. "Please?" Harry begged, "I promise you'll enjoy it."

He didn't know what it was inside him that finally gave way a little at Harry's wide green eyes. He loosened his grip on the ladder and let himself slip back down into the cool water, silently relishing in the gentle lapping sensation of the waves on his skin.

They floated that way for about half an hour before Harry opted to grab their snorkels and goggles from the deck. Draco pursed his lips in apprehension as Harry climbed out and padded away out of sight. He didn't have to wait long before Harry reappeared, goggles strapped over his head and two snorkels and another pair of goggles in his hand. He only got halfway down the ladder before he hopped down into the water. Draco closed his eyes as the water splashed over his head.

"Here, strap these on and we can see down to the bottom," Harry gestured, holding the goggles above the water.

Draco took them with a heavy frown, "Won't the water get in my eyes?"

"That's what these are for," Harry explained, "To keep the water out." He drifted a little closer and lowered his voice, "Don't worry I put an extra charm on them for extra protection."

Draco gave a small smile as he fastened the goggles on and mimicked Harry in positioning the snorkel before they sank completely under the surface.

He wouldn't admit it out right, not there and then anyway, but in his memories later sent to his mother, Draco truly did enjoy that afternoon drifting under the surface off the coast of Turkey. The brilliant blue of the water surrounding him was so bright it was still stunning, even in memory-form. They swam through the waves, drifting over the pebbled sea bed and finding small clusters of fish to glisten silver and orange colours in the dappled sunlight filtering through.

By the time they found themselves back on the deck, the sun was hovering like a low, golden ball in the sky and the clouds were now a series of pinks and peach colours. Both of them had a tinge of sunburn –not that they didn't have a salve for that –and as they ate on the deck of the ship, sharing a laugh with their Captain, Draco couldn't help but keep sparing glances over at his dark-haired companion.

Harry looked so calm and happy even though he was far away from his family and friends. Draco couldn't help but wonder if he had anything to do with that happiness, with that radiant smile, with the proximity they were sitting at. Truly, they didn't need to be that close that whenever one of them moved, their knees would brush against one another, droplets of seawater transferring from one body to the next, the sensation so tickling that Draco caught his breath more than once.

He smiled softly as the sun started to set, casting a purplish shadow over the water surrounding them, small twinkling lights popping to life all over the bay. The captain went back to the control room and started to steer them back to shore, a heavy tip already waiting for him in Harry's pocket. He hadn't felt this relaxed in such a long time. As they settled for leaning on the rail, their dry clothes finally put on and a light jacket tossed over both their shoulders, Draco was struck by the sheer simplicity of it all. Harry's dark hair fluttered in the breeze and tickled his nose –not that he minded.

In fact he didn't mind that Harry stepped just a fraction closer in order to steal some of his limited body heat, his back brushing softly against Draco's chest and making his heart thud just a little harder.

He didn't mind it at all.

* * *

 **A/N: I know this is a short chapter considering how long I've been away, but I hope you enjoy it nontheless! X**


	12. Germany & Gin

**A/N: Thank you for all the lovely reviews and support! Also a big thanks to FanofBellaandEdward for proof-reading this for me!**

 **NOTE: I am so sorry for the long delay in this chapter. I've had mechanical difficulties and basically no longer have a laptop and since we don't have a PC in my house, I have to wait for my mum to surrender her laptop, hence why any and all updates have been on standstill for the last two months. It's been so frustrating knowing I have stories on here you all love that I just cannot bring closer to the end (not that I WANT to end them but you know what I mean). Anyway, hopefully I can update quicker but we shall see! Keep your fingers crossed for me lovelies!**

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven:**

 **Germany and Gin**

One week later Draco was just scrolling through the binder of notes and photocopies of some holiday snaps when Dr. Jacob came into Harry's private room. They had gone through all the basic tests for a brand new case file and now the results were in. Draco felt his blood run a little cold as the door was closed. He was grateful they were the only two ones in the room. He didn't think he could handle having any of their other friends or relatives there.

Dr. Jacob looked over at him as he settled himself in the armchair adjacent to the window. Draco closed the binder and rubbed a hand over his chin. He hadn't shaved a lot recently, despite taking pride in his appearance. "There's some good news and some bad news, Mr. Malfoy," he started as he fingered the manila file in his lap. "Which one would you prefer first?"

Draco shook his head dejectedly, "I really don't think it's going to make much of a difference."

Nodding, Dr. Jacob opened the file and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, "Well his vitals are all looking normal. The only thing that concerns me is the acute anaemia but we can get that under control within the next couple of days."

Draco inclined his head, "Okay that sounds fine. What else did the tests show you?"

"That based on his condition, his statistics are what we'd expect them to be. His brain activity appears normal and his stomach has shrunk in size, obviously due to the lack of physical nourishment." He peered up at Draco and cleared his throat, "The only bad news is that the scans have revealed that your partners' cancer has spread to his gall bladder and his left kidney."

"Fuck!" Draco hissed, leaning over in the chair and cupping his face in his hands.

"Draco," Dr. Jacob leaned forward, "I know that sounds bad but what you need to hold onto is that your partner is more than capable in living without those organs. His cancer shouldn't have spread, not if he was being given treatment. Unfortunately, I don't think he was being given anything more than basic potions and salves to care for himself. You have every right to sue St. Mungo's for malpractice and I think you should."

"Oh believe me, those Healers won't get another job in medicine once I'm through with them," Draco sneered darkly.

Dr. Jacob nodded in agreement, "They shouldn't if they're going to be prejudiced like this." He cleared his throat and sat a little straighter, "As I was saying, if you would like, we can do an operation to remove the gall bladder and the infected kidney."

"Can he live without those?" Draco asked with a heavy frown.

Dr. Jacob nodded, "Yes, his life won't necessarily be affected too much, and whilst he's still in the coma it wouldn't be a problem at all. And if, at a later date, he decides he wants another kidney at least, then we can do that once the chemo has run its course."

Draco hummed in thought, his grey eyes constantly drawn over to where the monitors beeped around Harry's head. "And how soon after the operation would you be able to start the chemotherapy?"

"At least within twelve to twenty-four hours, just so as to ensure that there's no reaction with the anaesthesia."

Sitting back in his chair, Draco rested his hand in his chin and clicked his tongue. There was really no way he was going to deny Harry's highest chance of survival, but the thought of him having a muggle operation made his skin crawl and his blood run cold. Inhaling deeply, he cast a shrewd eye over at Dr. Jacob sitting across from him. "Will there be scarring?" he finally asked. It wasn't that he was shallow in wanting a perfect body. His own chest was marred from their duel in their sixth year. They didn't itch or irritate him anymore but they were still there, thin silver lines that threaded over his collar and down to his navel.

Dr. Jacob tilted his head, "I can make it so that there is minimal scarring. Of course the healing salves will increase how fast the scars will heal and so, they should fade a lot quicker that if we were to use purely muggle techniques here."

"Sorry," Draco murmured, "This is just so new to me. I'm trying to process it all."

"I understand. I want you to know that I will do everything in my physical power to make sure that your partner is properly taken care of. You two have suffered far too much, and that just isn't right. The war was over a decade ago. The pain is still there, yes, but no one on either side truly won. We all lost those we love and cared for."

"Some more than others," Draco breathed, his eyes shining with the dry tears that always started when mentions of the war came up. Clearing his throat, he straightened up and fixed the doctor with a firm gaze, "How soon can the surgery be done?" he asked.

"If it's alright with you we can take him down for surgery this evening. We won't even need to use a lot of anaesthesia since he is already in a coma. We'll monitor him and up the dosage if he shows signs of waking which, at this point in time, does not look likely."

Draco clenched his fingers into a fist and tried to control his breathing. He knew it was true but to have the words brought across to him so bluntly still hurt a little bit. "I understand that but just make sure that you're prepared if anything does change midway."

"Of course, I have a contract drawn up binding me to that, if it makes you feel more comfortable?"

Draco nodded but didn't reach out for the aforementioned contract. He's head felt like it was spinning and stationary at the same time. "So this evening Harry's going to go downstairs and have this … this … surgery?"

Dr. Jacob leaned back in his chair, "Yes that's right. With your consent of course."

"You have it," Draco stated in a stiff monotone, "It's just unnerving."

"The procedure is arduous, that's a given, but don't worry. He's in the best possible care."

Draco didn't want to tell the doctor that he'd been burned by said words before. He didn't have it in him to cut down the man who was going out of his way to help Harry come just a little closer back into his life. It was another hour before he signed the papers and then asked Dr. Jacob to give him some privacy so he could say his 'goodbyes'. He didn't like doing it in front of people, not even the healer's. He even asked his mother to wait outside.

Once the door clicked back into place, he heaved a sigh of relief and stood up to walk by Harry's bedside. Taking Harry's limp hand into his own, he stroked his hand over the soft skin. The lack of arm hair making him shiver a little. He grasped the hand a little tighter, his heart quivering in his chest with suppressed grief.

"I'm not sure if I completely trust that you're going to come out on the other side of this," he finally sighed, "I hope that you do. I need you to. I need to leave now, having dinner at Mother's." His eyes grew hot with tears and he swallowed the stiff lump swelling in his throat. "I'll bring her to see you this weekend, okay?" He leaned down and pressed a warm, lingering kiss to Harry's tight skin. He felt his lips tremble at how still and how pale his lover looked against the bland hospital pillows. "See you tomorrow morning, my darling."

~0~

"How's your swordfish, sweetheart?" Narcissa asked over the table as the house-elf poured her a glass of red wine.

Draco hummed softly as he swallowed said fish without tasting any of it; not the saltiness of the fish itself, nor the buttery white wine sauce, or the lightly fried greens and boiled potatoes alongside it. Everything was as bland as wet cardboard. "It's fine," he said.

"How was the hospital today?" she asked, her eyes fleeting between her food and her son.

Draco felt himself shift in the chair. "It was alright," he murmured, "They're taking him down to surgery tonight." His voice was monotone and his chest ached. He'd checked the clock in the hall just as dinner was served. Harry would still be in surgery. He didn't like the idea, it made his stomach flip uncomfortably, but there was nothing he could do now.

He'd signed the consent forms.

"Sweetheart, try not to worry too much. I know it's a distressing thought, but Harry is in capable hands. You said so yourself. And just think, the sooner his treatment is resumed under the proper guidelines, well, there's every chance he'll recover quicker."

"At this point I'm not so sure he will recover."

Narcissa put her fork down with a little too much force. Draco jumped at the sharp sound as it echoed in the vast dining hall. "Draco Lucius Malfoy enough of this!" she snapped, her tone quiet but sharp.

"Mother …"

"No, Draco. I've had enough. Every time you come away from that room it's as though you've succumbed to a Dementor. You need to try and look to the positives of the situation right now. You need to accept that, once in a while, something good might just happen to you," she said.

"How?" he bit out, "How has anything good happened to me?"

Her shoulders relaxed a little more, "You were given a chance to befriend the hero you worshipped. You were able to enjoy yourself after the war. You were able to fall in love with someone … How are none of those things 'good'?"

"That also came along with two annoying, prejudiced friends who tried to stop me from visiting him both times he got sick, a family that make him feel guilty and now he's in a coma!" He slammed his fist on the table, the cutlery rattling.

"Draco!" Narcissa reached over the waxed wood and slid her cool fingers over his clenched fist. He was shaking. She wished there was something more she could do, like snapping her fingers and taking the cancer away from her future son-in-law. "I know it's not easy, my love, I know. But you just need to be brave for him. He's done so much for you, sometimes without you even realising. Now you need to be the brave one for him."

Draco clenched his jaw but unfurled his fingers and slid his hand around his mother's, to reassure her. "It's hard to be brave all the time. I don't know how he did it for almost ten years straight."

"Sometimes people don't have a choice," she said as she squeezed his hand, "just like you weren't given one this time around." Leaning back in her chair she cast her cool blue eyes over the barely eaten food. Even her own appetite had gone. With a slight grimace, she called out for a house-elf. When one appeared with a crack she turned and indicated the food, "Put this away so it doesn't spoil. For now, my son and I will need a pot of black coffee sent to the drawing room."

The elf bowed, "Yes Mrs. Malfoy! Mitzy is getting the coffee for Mistress and Master!"

With a crack the elf disappeared.

"Come with me darling," Narcissa beckoned her son. He watched her for a moment, her long silvery hair falling in waves down her back. Eventually he stood and followed her through into the drawing room. Settling down on the sofa beside her, he let her take his hands into her own. "Darling, I know that this is all trying for you. If there was any way I could help I would. All I can do, unfortunately, is be there for you."

"I do appreciate it, mother," he finally said as a wave of reassurance trickled through him. "I just wish that there was some way to know if it was alright."

"You just need to give it time, my darling."

"It's hard being in there all the time on my own," he murmured, dropping his eyes to his lap.

"Why don't I come with you then? Next time?" she offered.

"I wouldn't want you to waste your day," he admitted.

"It wouldn't be a waste my love. I'd even go just to listen to you read that book your working on. How _is_ it going?"

"Okay," he said, "I've gotten to the part where we went to Germany."

"Ahh those were good memories," she smiled lovingly at him. She squeezed his hand softly. "Well I promise you that I will be there. When will you next go and see him?"

"Tomorrow morning," he said.

"Then I'll be there," she gave him another squeeze.

~0~

"Of all nights for it to rain it has to be this one!" Draco groused as he slumped heavily against the wall, swiping his soaked fringe out of his eyes. "Why did you make us come to fucking Germany, Potter? Couldn't you have checked the weather or some crap on your fellytone thing?"

"It's a mobile phone, Draco, you know that," Harry said over his shoulder as he fiddled with the key-card. "Let's just get inside and dry-up, okay?"

Draco curled his lip up but didn't say anything else as the door swung open. He slumped inside and stopped short. Harry collided with his back, making them both grunt. Draco ground his teeth together until he was sure bone flints would start drifting out of his mouth. "What … What the fuck is this!" he snarled when he finally found his voice again.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, clearly confused behind Draco. He stepped around the blonde and felt his stomach drop into his shoes. "Oh," he said.

"OH?" Draco raged, "Is that all you can say?!"

Harry sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. There in the middle of the room was a single double bed. "Look it's just a little misunderstanding. Stay here and I'll go down to the front desk and see if I can sort it okay?"

"You must be joking?" Draco snapped, "YOUR German is so bad it landed us IN this mess in the first place!"

Harry straightened up and glared up at the blonde, "Oh do you think you can do better?"

That's how he found himself twenty minutes later, leaning back against the reception counter with Draco sneering in almost-perfect German -where the Hell had he learned that? -whilst the poor clerk behind the desk fumbled about trying to see if there was something they could do about the situation. At that point Harry could care less, he just needed something to dull the throbbing at the base of his skull. He hoped the German's really loved stocking their mini-bars with alcohol.

"This is bullshit!" Draco spat an hour later when they'd finally returned to their room. Harry had found, to his delight, that the mini-bar was stocked with lots of tiny bottles of German brews. He couldn't care less what he drank, as long as he was left feeling pleasantly numbed.

"Yes, it's bullshit," Harry rolled his eyes as he grabbed two bottles of whatever out of the mini-fridge and fiddled around with a bottle-opener. "Now either shut up and drink up or ... I'm going to owl your mother and ask her for her baby's favourite bottle and blanket."

The glare he got from the blonde would have made him laugh if his mood hadn't been so terrible.

"Just give me a bottle of that goblin piss and let's get this day over with!" He swiped the bottle and grumbled under his breath as he tipped his head back and took a long swig.

Harry took a long drink from his own bottle and momentarily wondered how the night would progress. Then he took another long drink and decided that he really didn't give a shit.

Two hours later and they were both incredibly 'merry' as well as slumped over against the end of the end and the headboard. There was at least half an empty shelf in the mini-bar. Alcohol relaxed the blonde, even if it did make him incredibly mouthy and loud.

"All I'm saying is, I don't really believe Flitwick is a dwarf!" Harry hiccoughed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm pretty sure he's always just standing in a hole."

Draco laughed softly at first, and then it bubbled over turning his cheeks pink. "A magic hole that was just always there?"

Harry shrugged, "Hey I'll believe it! If stairs can disappear half of Flitwick can!"

Draco snorted into his drink and almost choked on the frothy brew. "You are so full of crap, Potter! Are you really so drunk you think that Flitwick is in a hole?!"

"Well ... what would you rather me do?"

Draco glanced down at his bottle and hummed in thought. "You know what? Let's make this more fun. Lemme get two more out of the bar and I'll see what I can get out of that mouth of yours."

"Sounds promising," Harry slurred a little as he tipped his head back and drank up the last of his current bottle. Draco made long and clumsy work of popping the caps off two beer before slinking up over to the bed and handing a cold bottle to his companion.

"Drink up, speccy!"

Harry cocked an eyebrow but didn't say anything as he took another greedy sip. He was starting to see why people became alcoholic's; the effect of it was instant, making his throat dry and instantly gasping to be soothed by more of the stuff. He shuddered a little before leaning back on the plush pillows. His gaze was a little unfocused as he looked down the end of the bed at the blonde sitting cross-legged there. His skin still glowed like the palest of stones, like he'd captured the rays of the moon in his skin and refused to let it go. His hair was golden and glowed like a halo around his head, framing his chiseled features like an angel.

"What did you say?" Draco asked, his smoky eyes narrowing in confusion.

Harry blinked owlishly before dropping his gaze to his knees. Had he said that out loud? "N-nothing. Why ...Why don't we do that game? 'Never Have I ...' or some rubbish."

Draco snickered but nodded. "Okay ... Never have I ever ... kissed a redhead."

Harry drank. "Come on, the whole _school_ knows about that. Okay, my turn. Never have I ever ... slept in my mother's bed."

Draco grimaced, "I should fucking hope not, Potter. That's macabre!" He took a swig anyway. "Never have I ever kissed another Quidditch player."

He cleared his throat as his took a swig, before swallowing thickly. "Never have I ever dyed my hair." For some reason, he was surprised when Draco didn't drink. Instead, he cocked a sleek eyebrow and rolled his eyes. "Really? That's your NATURAL colour?"

Draco nodded, "Of course it is. What? You thought my whole family dyed their hair the same colour?"

"Well ... it's possible! Considering Gilderoy Lockhart used to use a special potion purely to keep his teeth THAT white ... I'll believe anything!"

Draco laughed. He couldn't deny that their second year professor had used the supplies of the Wizarding World in the most narcissistic ways imaginable. Even Draco hadn't been that vain -he hoped he never would be, truthfully. Sure, he liked to primp and preen -he had standards after all -but he wasn't about to clean out half of his bank account just to keep up said appearances. "Well I promise that this is my real hair colour," he finally said.

Harry tilted his head to the side and winced. He was definitely drunk. He could feel the warm, bubbly feeling swirling inside him. "It does look really pretty ... and soft."

"You can touch it if you like," Draco offered. When the brunette hesitated, Draco grabbed his hand and planted it firmly on his head. There was another moment of hesitation before Harry's fingers slowly relaxed, threading under the soft platinum blonde strands. Merlin, it was like silk! How could anything so unnaturally light be so soft? Draco dipped a little closer until he was lying down on his side with his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of Harry stroking his hair.

It was different to the way Pansy had used to stroke his hair at school. She'd felt like a cat trying to mark its territory. Harry's hands -although rough from Quidditch try-outs and whatever the hell he'd done every summer -were surprisingly tentative and soft.

For his part, Harry suddenly felt incredibly hot and on-edge. He didn't know why it was strumming through him but he just could not take his fingers away from Draco's hair. It was far too soft to not touch it. "I really do like your hair, Draco," Harry hummed as he slouched lower on the pillows.

"Well then it's a good thing that we're on this holiday together," the blonde said.

"So you won't mind if I touch your hair a little more?"

Draco shook his head under the weight of his companion's hand. Tipping his head back a little so that Harry's palm skimmed over his face. It was cool, soft and smelled faintly of something comforting. He let his eyes drift closed as he brushed his nose along Harry's fingers. His heart ached a little in his chest as he pressed a chaste kiss to the calloused digits hovering over his lips.

To his surprise, Harry didn't pull away.

In fact, he felt Harry's finger purposefully brush over his bottom lip, tracing it and exploring the soft plumpness. He felt a shiver run through him. It shouldn't feel so good, it was just a finger. He let his mouth open a little and felt the fingertip slip against his teeth. Harry's breath hitched audibly as Draco gently nipped at his fingertip. Both men felt something inside them twist, knot and flip all in quick succession.

"You -You know what else I haven't done?" Harry breathed as he licked his suddenly dry lips.

"What's that?" Draco asked, staring up at the ceiling and feeling dazed. Almost like he was floating outside of himself.

"I've never ... kissed a guy before."

This time Draco didn't need to drink as he turned his head to the side and looked up at Harry's wide green eyes. He rolled up into a sitting position, hunched over and leaning close to the brunette. "Neither have I," he said.

Harry looked at the blonde before him. Merlin, he was so handsome! No, handsome wasn't the right word. Beautiful -Gosh, yes he was definitely beautiful. He was so close ... coming closer ... Oh, what was happening? He could smell the alcohol on Draco's breath -he could feel the heat of his body moving closer.

Draco pressed his lips to Harry's. It was chaste at first, a tentative touch of the lips, nothing forceful despite how intoxicated they both were. Then Draco raised his hand and gently cupped Harry's jaw, a subtle touch that made Harry hitch his breath before the blonde man pressed a little further, teasing his companion with his lips just a little bit.

"D-Draco ...?" Harry tried but the blonde shook his head.

"Shh, shh, just let this happen."

Harry looked up at him, his wide emerald eyes rippling with concern. His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed before he leaned forward and initiated a far hungrier kiss. Draco snickered in his drunken state, but greedily accept the weight of Harry's body as they slid sideways onto the rumpled mess of covers.


	13. Italy & Ice Cream

**A/N: Thank you for all the lovely reviews and support! Also a big thanks to FanofBellaandEdward for proof-reading this for me!**

 **AT PRESENT I have been in the process of moving. I have no internet until later this week, and even then I still have no laptop. Hopefully within this month I will and my updates won't be weeks apart like they have been, for which I am so sorry! I hope you enjoy this update! x**

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve:**

 **Italy and Ice Cream**

As silly as it was the following morning, Draco felt uneasy when he held the door open for his mother to step inside. Up until now no one else had come to see Harry. He hadn't let anyone else step past the threshold. There was, however, a limit to his power of intimidation and that limit stopped at his mother.

If Narcissa was perturbed by Harry's outward appearance she didn't show it. Not outwardly at least. She didn't frown or whimper like Harry's friends would have done, and she didn't throw herself onto the bed and start fussing over him like the Weasley mother would have done. Both those things would have pissed Draco off to no end.

No, Narcissa did none of these things.

Instead, she pursed her lips and walked around the end of the bed with all the grace of a ballet dancer. The sunlight caught in her sleek hair and Draco felt his fingers twitch as her fingertips brushed over the pleats in the blankets. Settling down on the edge of the bed, barely denting the sheets, she took hold of Harry's limp hand and brought it into her lap.

All of a sudden, Draco felt like he was intruding on a private moment between his mother and future husband.

Pulling the chair out in front of her, he settled down off to the side, propped his elbow on the armrest and watched them. He almost wished he could read his mother, but after all these years he couldn't. Even his own father couldn't. Her's was the original poker-face.

"Draco, darling," Narcissa said, "Why don't you read Harry that rough draft you copied out last night?"

Draco unfurled a little from his chair and took the folder out of his pocket. With a wave of his wand, he reverted the folder to its original size and slipped last night's work out onto his lap. He was suddenly very aware that intimate details, some he wasn't even sure if his mother was aware of, were about to come to light, perhaps for the first time.

The temperature in the room escalated.

Casting a quick glance at his mother holding Harry's hand so tenderly between her own, he felt his heart swell a little.

"November dawned unseasonably warm as we made our way back towards Italy ..."

~0~

Despite the weather growing colder the two boys made their way towards Italy with Harry insisting that it would still be beautiful, even if it did happen to snow a little. That was all they seemed to be talking about lately. Travelling, hotel rates, viewing the wizarding parts of some of these countries even though, other than the apparition points and the floo network, they'd unconsciously avoided.

It wasn't as though neither of them thought about it, it just seemed that Harry had become all too skilled at being nonchalant on life-changing matters. Apparently that's what going up face-to-face with the Dark Lord did to you. Apparently it made you not sweat the small things -Like KISSING your school RIVAL!

The thought kept niggling at his mind but Draco was trying not to bring it up unless Harry even skimmed the subject. Even if it was something vaguely related, like the relationship status of someone they both knew, Draco could work with that.

The hotel they'd chosen was located right in the center of the city, a vague arch in the horizon to indicate the Colosseum against the chilled, iron-grey sky. Despite the season, something about the grey city, the burning orange of the street lamps bathing the flagstones in their glow. The cold scent of ice hung in the air, threatened to pierce through the clouds and make the roads and pavements almost impossible to walk on.

Draco missed the warm weather. Italy in the summer was meant to be truly beautiful, although it was populated almost entirely by pick-pockets and tourists. A lethal combination. Italy in winter though, it was beautiful. The pavements twinkled with the tender kiss of frost and the chilled air made it so that, when he and Harry did go out, they developed a tendency to drift closer together for warmth.

"Mother would have loved to come here for Christmas," Draco mused aloud as they sipped plastic cups of mulled wine.

Harry peeked up at him and smiled softly, "It does seem elegant and cool, just like her."

Draco furrowed his brow as they stopped on a bridge and leaned against the iron railings. "Is that how you picture my mother? Cold?"

Harry pressed his lips together and looked down at the grey water. The clouds reflected in the gently lapping river. "Not ... cold," he hedged, "but she's a Malfoy, a pureblood. She's from class, married class, and despite the war still oozes class. She just has ... well, a damned good poker face."

Draco gave a small smile and nodded, "Yeah don't ever try and best her. Seriously. Even Dad lost to her several times. He was not happy."

Snorting, Harry rolled his eyes, "Somehow I just can't picture it."

"Come to the manor over Christmas. Dad gets to at least spend Christmas day with us. It'll be an interesting affair."

"Dinner with the Malfoys?" the brunette sipped his wine and winced a little. "Well, it'll definitely be an experience if nothing else." Then it clicked inside his head and his eyes went a little wider behind his glasses. Glancing up at the blonde, he felt his cheeks warm up a little despite the cool air. "I ... Were you serious? Do you -want me to come to yours for Christmas?"

Draco didn't answer right away. His cool steel eyes watched out at the narrow houses towering over the water, their usually bright colours muted in the chilled season air. Swallowing thickly, he looked down into his cup, "I suppose ... it would be nice. Father won't be himself and Mother will just want to hear all about where we've been travelling. Somehow ... I think it'd be better if you were there."

"Draco ..."

"But I know you spend your holidays with the Weasley's and Granger so ... I don't know, just a thought I guess."

"Well normally I do spend the holidays with the Weasley's. Although, since Ginny and I didn't get back together and all that, it might be a little awkward. If anything I can spend Christmas eve with them and then come to yours Christmas morning. How does that sound?"

"I ... you don't have to!" Draco protested, feeling backed into a corner. He hadn't expected Harry to so readily accept such an offer. All of a sudden he was hot and flustered in the cool November air. He could feel his skin turning pink as he tried to look anywhere but at Harry's amused green gaze. "Seriously," he composed himself, "Don't feel obligated. My father isn't exactly your biggest fan and my family -whilst we love one another -aren't exactly the Weasley clan."

Harry shrugged, "I figured you wouldn't be."

"But is that a problem for you?"

Harry shook his head, "No. Compared to my first ten Christmas' with my relatives, any Christmas with a proper meal I don't have to cook, and presents and decorations is a bonus. Even if the small talk dries up after the appetizers."

There was a lot that Draco wanted to ask about. However, he decided that there were more important things to deal with at the present moment. "Well if you're open to it I'm sure mother wouldn't mind having an even number around the dining table for a change."

Harry gave a small smile, "I'm sure the manor looks lovely at Christmas."

Draco wrinkled his nose as they both leaned over against the iron railings, frosty to the touch through their coats. "It used to, when we had the house-elves. The Ministry have taken them all since the war so ... it's whatever Mother manages to do herself."

"We could always help her out," Harry suggested with a shrug.

Draco blinked in surprise again. What was it about Harry's generosity that was so surprising to him? He had known since day one that Harry was charitable, even before the war and all the fame got cast down upon him. Even before he'd defeated the Dark Lord and his followers. On the one hand, he thrived that Harry would want to be so involved on his own little Christmas at the manor. On the other hand, he was hesitant. There would be no Christmas ball this year, nor would there be over two hundred guests, the majority of them socialites. This year it would be small, refined, not even classy. It was just going to be bare, sad, even cold.

Suffice to say he was not looking forward to going home.

Bowing his head, he let out a huff of air that plumed out over the grey water. "If I could give my parents anything, it would be a proper family Christmas." He closed his eyes and let the thought rattle through his brain that he had practically no way of making that happen.

The feel of Harry's cold hand resting against his own around the curve of the railing shocked him. He flinched. Harry's smile, whilst chapped from the wind and skin flushed pink from the cold, was enough to warm Draco's chipped heart. "I hope you're able to make it happen."

He gave Harry's hand a brief squeeze, before straightening up and dropping his arms to his sides, "Let's get back to the hotel and have some dinner. Maybe I can floo-call mother after dinner."

"I'm sure she'd love to hear from you instead of just the owls and memories you've been sending."

"To be fair, she does love watching them," Draco reasoned.

Harry rolled his eyes with a grin, as they hunched up in their coats before turning in the direction of their hotel.

~0~

"I remember that day," Narcissa mused as she adjusted her position in the armchair. She'd had to ask Dr. Jacob for permission to transfigure the chair into something comfier for her. Draco hadn't wanted to object as she did his chair as well. It wasn't as though anyone else was going to benefit from those chairs anyway. "You floo called me before dinner though. If I remember rightly, you'd complained that, for a magical hotel, the room service was unbearably slow."

Draco snorted, "Well it was. You were there most of the time while we were waiting. You saw how long it took."

She smiled before casting her eyes to Harry. Her lips dropped down at the corners as she took in all the monitors beeping away. "Has Dr. Jacob said anything? About the operation?"

He sighed. He didn't really want to talk about it, because talking about it made it all real. He didn't want to deal with reality, not right now. Hence why he rarely came to Harry's beside without his writing; he just couldn't deal with the silence. The gnawing absence of Harry's voice in his ear or his presence by his side was just too much to bear on a daily basis. Even Seeker's company only just about helped ease the pain.

"As far as he can tell the operation went well. There were no complications and no infections, nor have Harry's vitals dropped. He's already started the first course of treatment."

"Is he well enough for that?" she asked, concerned.

Draco nodded. "He's as stable as he's going to be anytime soon. Dr. Jacob is keeping a firm eye on his vitals. The chemo is a low dose, it's just to help combat the tumors, try and ease them down in size whilst he's in the coma. I want him to get through it as pain free as possible."

"I just worry about you Draco. The longer he's in a coma the harder it'll be for him to come back to you."

There it was. The truth that burned black-holes through his dreams.

"He just needs a little longer," he stated through gritted teeth. He curled his fists up in his lap. "As soon as his vitals improve we can try and wake him or at least lower whatever is keeping him asleep."

"I just want you to be prepared, darling."

"No good will come of thinking like that," he stated sharply.

"Oh you sound just like your father," she tutted disapprovingly.

"He managed to do enough in his time between wars," he grumbled before shaking his head. Where had that come from?

Thankfully, his mother merely rolled her cool eyes and returned her gaze to Harry. "He really is a remarkable man, isn't he? I can see why you fell in love with him."

The sentiment caught Draco by surprise. He blinked and refocused his attention on his lover, suspended in the private room with meters of pipes and tubing sticking out of him. A tremor ran down his spine. They shouldn't be here. None of them should. They should be outside enjoying the weather. Pressing his lips together, Draco idly flicked through the pages in his lap, covered in his neat handwriting. He didn't use quills anymore, not unless he went to the ministry or to the bank. He preferred the muggle biro's and still remembered the hassle Harry had gone through to get him used to them.

A notion that Hermione never let him forget.

"Do you regret me loving him, mother?" he finally asked.

If the question caught her off-guard she didn't show it. Instead she turned and gave him a slow look over her shoulder. "No, sweetheart. He makes you happy. He made so much effort with you right after the war. He could have let it all go to his head and had the perfect little life everyone wanted for him. A lot of my respect for him is for his defiant attitude, for how he doesn't want to go with the flow, not all the time. He's unique in that."

"And father?"

"Your father is a man of status and family-bound. In truth, he and Harry weren't too different in that. He could relate to his principals even if he didn't particularly like Harry to begin with."

"To a degree, I can understand that."

"They got along well enough before he got ill," Narcissa observed.

Draco nodded his head. The family dinners they'd had went through his mind at lightning speed before his eyes focused on the monitors beeping away. If a man as stubborn as his father could, as begrudgingly as it had been, gotten along with Harry, then why was it so difficult for Harry's friends and adoptive family to accept him? Why were they so convinced that despite everything, he had only been a young man thrown in at the deep end of a war he shouldn't have had anything to do with.

"Are you ever going to let them come and see him?" Narcissa asked.

Draco shook his head with a sigh, "They really don't deserve to. I did promise, though. As long as they behaved themselves."

"As long as you remain in control of the situation, it will be alright my dragon. You know that."

"I said that they could come this evening," he finally said, his hand twitching over the handwritten pages. "I'm just worried they'll go back on their word like the last time."

"People are capable of change. Our family alone is proof of that."

Draco knew she was right. The Malfoys were the epitome of change after the war. True, some people still refused to see it, their minds having been warped by the media, but they were of little consequence as far as Draco was concerned. "I just worry," he confessed.

A soft hand took his own and he flinched a little at her touch. "It'll be fine. One step at a time, okay?"

A knock on the door cut his response off.

Dr. Jacob stood there, with an IV drip and a nurse at his side. "Is -this a bad time?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at the two of them.

Draco shook his head, "No. We were just discussing letting Harry's friends visit this evening."

"Well hopefully they'll be here before 7pm. That's when our visiting hours end," the doctor said as he positioned the IV drip by Harry's bed side, and inserted the line into the capped needle on the back of Harry's limp hand.

"They'll be here," Draco stated.

Dr. Jacob nodded his head but didn't seem to bother entering into a debate. "Well in that case make sure they don't stress anyone out in here. Harry will pick up on it and it may deter his recovery."

With that said, he finalised connecting the IV drip before leaving the room.

~0~

Draco let out a groan and stepped away from the fireplace. The talk with his mother had gone well and he's even been able to hand her some souvenirs through the floo network. Thankfully the weather wasn't interfering with it. Settling back on the bed he couldn't help but roll his eyes at his dark-haired roommate who was currently eating the largest sundae room service could afford to make.

"Why the hell are you eating that? It's freezing outside!"

"Yes but it's hot in here, erego ice cream!" Harry grinned as he ate another large spoonful and moaned. The sound rippled through the blond, making him bite his tongue. "This is so good, you should get one."

"No thanks, slob," Draco sneered. He let his eyes wonder around the room; it had a high ceiling and thick two-toned curtains and a brocade throw at the end of the bed. Gilt gold framed mirrors adorned two walls and a matching framed oil painting decorated the space above the beds. It looked too posh to simply be a four star hotel. Hotel's in England were shabbier than this place, and far more costly. "Ugh there's nothing to do."

"We could watch a movie on TV," Harry said.

"Will it be in Italian?"

"Of course it will be, dumbass."

With a roll of his eyes, Draco shifted up to the head of the bed next to Harry and dropped his head back on the pillows, "Fine, do what you want."

Harry obliged and turned the TV on, surfing through the limited channels until they happened upon a movie.

They staying in silence for a while, watching the characters talk out of sync with the words and listening to the clink of steel on glass as Harry finished the obscene amount of sugar and dairy. "You'll rot your teeth eating that you know?" Draco hummed lazily as he flexed his legs out on the silky bedspread.

"I can always buy new teeth," Harry grinned licking his sticky lips.

Draco wrinkled his nose, "Anyone ever told you how grim you are, Scarhead?"

"Well ... do 'you' count?" he asked as he wriggled down beside the blond.

"I always count," Draco stated.

"That's a cute nose you have, careful it doesn't get stuck up your arse."

Draco glared up at Harry before grabbing a handful of the soft, black hair and tugging it. "You're such a wanker!"

Play-fighting with Harry was so much fun. In their few short months together Draco had come to love it as an almost daily routine. They never got to the point where they'd punch or bruise one another much, but they did whack each other with pillows more often that not. They rolled about on the covers, kicking out and fighting for air as they struggled to gain dominance. Finally Draco came out on top, straddling Harry's hips, his face red and his hair in disarray as he held the pillow over his head, cast a look at the teary-eyed laughing hero beneath him, and whacked the smug look off his face.

"I win, you stupid four-eyed git!" he yelled out triumphantly, his arms tossed in the air in a celebratory gesture.

Harry cuffed his eyes dry, his glasses still askew on his nose. Draco couldn't deny that in this light, Harry's eyes were beautiful. Leaning down, he gently plucked the glasses from the brunette's nose and tossed them to the side.

"You have really lovely eyes," he murmured, his thumb absent-mindedly tracing over Harry's plump bottom lip. Dark eyebrows twitched to a frown and then relaxed. "Kiss me," Draco said.

"W-what?"

"You heard me, Scarhead, get the fuck up here and kiss me!"

With a heavy tug, he yanked the brunette upright into a sitting position. He hugged the younger man to his chest and wasted no time in taking advantage of the parted lips. Harry moaned and easily sank into the kiss as Draco held him tightly, his fingers tight in the black locks. He was soon drunk on the warm sweetness still clinging to Harry's lips and tongue and couldn't deny that he was getting a little bit of a sugar rush too.

Ice cream in winter? He was definitely a fan.

* * *

 **A/N: I am so sorry it's been so long. I won't promise when the next one will be. For now it's out of my control. Fingers crossed I get my own laptop soon!**


	14. IV's & Ice

**A/N: Thank you for all the lovely reviews and support! Also a big thanks to FanofBellaandEdward for proof-reading this for me!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen:**

 **IV's & Ice**

A knock came from the door, forcing Draco to look up from what he was doing.

In the doorway of the room stood a very stiff-backed Ron and a very weary-looking Hermione. The skin was pinched around her eyes. She'd pulled another extra-long shift at the Ministry, no doubt. They seemed to be waiting for him to say something. Give them permission, perhaps? That'd be a first. Still, this was no time for him to be bitter. They were making the effort and going along with what he wanted for a change. He wasn't about to start another row. He settled for remaining calm.

"So," he said as he closed the notebook from Hermione's intrigued eyebrow twitch. "You came."

"Of course we did," she said, edging into the room. "We made a point of getting visitation privileges. We're not about to let them go to waste."

He had to bite his tongue on that one. He busied himself with drawing the blinds to keep the harsh sunlight out of Harry's eyes. The sunlight slanted sideways and cast long bands up the wall. "Just see that they don't go to waste, and there won't be any problems." Hermione made a soft sound in the back of her throat, and gestured for Ron to sit down. Draco pretended not to notice as the redhead obeyed automatically, both of them slinging their light jackets over the back of their chairs. "So where are your children?" Draco asked turning back to look at them as he moved to the armchair his mother had long since vacated.

"With my mother," Ron stated.

Hermione glanced between Ron's scowl and Draco's standoffish expression before opting to cut through the silence. "How has he been responding to treatment?" she asked, her voice trying and failing not to be too hopeful.

"There was a very minuscule improvement in his brain activity about an hour before you came," Draco said reclining into the armchair. "Dr. Jacob said not to put too much hope into it though."

"Why not? It's the best thing we've heard in months!" she stated a little too eagerly.

This was what he had been worried about; her effortless exaggeration over the smallest thing. He didn't want to admit that he had already crested that 'hope high' and began to descend back into the hard reality of it all. She didn't need to know though. She didn't need to know that he'd launched himself at Harry's hand and practically held on for his life, whispering into his lover's ear, trying to coax something more than just an extra spike or two on the monitor.

Nothing.

Over the last hour he managed to regain control of his emotions and settle down inside his head. He'd taken a pen from his bag, propped his book open in his lap and started writing. Regardless, he didn't need to get his hopes up in regard to a small spike on the monitor.

"Mione don't," Ron placed a hand over her own and gave a squeeze. "You know as well as I do that if Harry were better, we'd see definitive signs."

Draco had to bite back his surprise. Ron had clearly seen Harry battered up and bruised more times than he'd ever tell Hermione about. Not to mention, Harry was a stubborn fighter; he truly wouldn't give up without a fight. Hell, the whole reason he was still with them, was a clear sign in itself. Unfortunately, Hermione didn't seem to see it that way.

"Ron, if he's showing signs of improvement, then this is a good thing!" her voice rose a little as she gripped his hand right back before her attention whipped to Draco. "You know it's true. Whatever you did, you need to keep doing it!"

Draco blinked and said slowly, "We restarted him on a lower dose of Chemo. That's all."

"Is it a new chemical component?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Same stuff as at St. Mungo's. Just a more controlled, lower dose."

Hermione blinked in surprise, her large brown eyes searching his face for any sign that he was lying. He wasn't. Her frustration seemed to drain out of her in a heartbeat. "I don't ... er ... what do you mean? Why wasn't it working before?"

"Hostile environment? Lack of outward support or familiarity around him? No proper form of schedule? Believe me, there are a million ways for him to have all but died before now. We're just lucky that he hasn't."

She pursed her lips and slumped back in her chair, arms folded tightly across her body. She deliberately didn't look at him, a scowl forming on her face. For his part, Ron drew in a deep breath and tried to regain control of the situation. "So what has Dr. Jacob said about his progress? It's good, bad or we shouldn't get our hopes up yet?"

"C," Draco said abruptly. "As much as I want it to be positive, it's too small and too coincidental to actually be significant."

Nodding his head, the redhead leaned forward a little more, hands knotted between his knees. "Either way it's too early in the course of treatment for anything to be determined. Right?"

"Precisely," the blonde agreed, surprised that the man was being so receptive. "I doubt we'll be seeing any proper effects, good or bad, until it's been at least a month on this new dosage."

"So we wait," Ron stated as though that solved everything.

Silence followed his statement. A calming hand on Hermione's forearm calmed the brunette down and her stance deflated as she Ron's hand in her own and squeeze. Draco had to snap his head away from the affectionate gesture. It had been so long since he'd felt the pressure of Harry's hand around his own. He flexed his fingers and tried not to think about it, an impossible task considering he was in Harry's private room.

"Has your mother come to visit?" Hermione's voice drew him out of his musings. He hummed and nodded absently, Harry's face too peaceful. He turned to look at her, his mask of haughtiness slipping. "And? How is she handling all of this?"

"Well enough," he said, "Of course she expected me to be settled, married off with at least a grandchild to her name. Sadly, this is my reality."

"Do you think, maybe ... my mum could come and see Harry?" Ron asked tentatively, the issue still a slowly burning bridge between them.

Draco felt his posture stiffen a little. He didn't want the mother weasel interfering; her opinions were about as good as sawdust to him. She would only get in the way and annoy him. He shook his head, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"She misses him!" Ron protested.

"And seeing him in this state is going to fix that?" Draco snapped unable to stop himself. Inhaling deeply he flexed his shoulders. "For now, no. I don't think your family needs to see Harry like this. Maybe once he shows signs of actually improving." Glancing at the clock he cursed that there was only half an hour left. They would probably stay until the end. With a sigh he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to get some coffee. You guys ... talk to him. Maybe that will help."

Without a backwards glance and a heavy heart, Draco left the room.

~0~

Waking up the following morning to the pale glow of the morning sun gleaming into the spacious hotel room, Draco smiled and drew the blankets closer around himself. The warmth of sleep still clung like a cloak to his skin and the bed was nothing but a cosy marshmallow for him to burrow into. He stretched out under the covers, yawning despite himself and groaned in appreciation. Harry may not appreciate the luxurious feel of thousand thread sheets, but Draco sure did.

 _Harry._

The night before suddenly swam back to him in a flurry of hot, heavy kisses, grinding like horny schoolboys against each other and falling awkwardly into the sheets. They hadn't fucked -that would be going too far. Not to mention there was no protection and Draco didn't know if Harry liked him like that. Sure they'd touched and kissed like their lives depended on it, but as far as talking about it like adults -zilch.

Perhaps he was just lonely? It wasn't like they'd been in any female company lately. They'd been months travelling together, only actually fighting a couple of times at the start of the trip. Things had mellowed out; Draco had stopped taking everything so personally, and Harry relaxed a lot more. There had been no surprise inspections from Aurors and only two owls from the Ministry asking for an official update from Harry.

In that respect, everything had gone so smoothly Draco had almost forgotten the charmed anklet on his left leg.

Lifting his head he squinted around the room, the pale light making it hard to focus on any one thing. Wriggling over he dropped his head on the pillow and winced when his jaw knocked something hard. Looking down through bleary eyes he saw a dark tuft of hair sticking out from under the pillow. Blinking slowly, his brain failing to put two and two together, he tweaked a strand of hair.

There was no response.

He tweaked again, harder this time.

A muffled sound came from under the pillow. Satisfied, he pulled even harder. Harry sprang up on his arms with a grunt of pain, glaring sleepily at Draco. Merlin, he looked so hot! The thought flashed through Draco's mind before he could stop it. Harry on all fours, grumpy and sleepy -clearly not a morning person -with his hair so messy he looked almost feral, and staring at Draco like he was going to be his last meal.

He couldn't help but hope he would be.

"Can't you just let me sleep?" the brunette growled low in his throat, the sound rumbling through Draco as the young man shifted closer, the heat from his body burning hot as his leg brushed against the blonde's.

Draco shook his head. "Nope."

"Fucker," Harry growled through clenched teeth.

"Don't tempt me," Draco grinned as he reached up, combed his fingers into the thick black hair and tugged. Hard.

Harry grunted again -the sexiest sound ever -before yanking Draco's hand out of his hair and throwing his weight on top of him, pinning the pale wrists about the blonde's head and straddling his hips. Draco bit his lip as Harry leaned closer; his dark hair was a sexy mess, making him look like he'd just been fucked senseless, his eyes were ablaze with desire and dear Merlin, did he look sexy without his glasses!

He bucked his hips, not caring at how hard he was. Harry groaned above him for one very obvious reason, that Draco took full advantage of. The man was hard too, the friction between their thin boxers maddening. It would be so easy to slide the cotton again, get Harry as wet as he was. Right then, he didn't even care about using protection. He just wanted Harry.

"Let me fuck you," he rasped out, the need growing inside him.

To his surprise, Harry only stiffened a little before nodding, his hard-on twitching as Draco brushed his fingertips through the fabric. "Okay. Are you going to top or ...?"

He let the question hang but it didn't need answering. "Have you ... done this before?" Please let him say 'no'.

Harry shook his head. "I've not fucked but ... I've touched myself ... both ways so ..." He dropped his gaze, as though embarrassed by the admission. Draco sat up a little, tugged Harry down into a rough kiss by his hair, the roughness of light stubble making it even sexier.

"Merlin, you're so hot, Harry. Stay just like that, all-fours." Draco shifted out from underneath him and stood at the end of the bed. Tugging his bottoms down he guided Harry backwards by his hips. His breathing was heavy as he pulled Harry's bottoms and boxers down, those smooth buttocks twitching at his touch. The faint dark hair peaking between his legs and cheeks.

The sight made him even harder.

Panting he felt his brain kick into hyper-drive. So many fantasies hinged on this moment. Smoothing his hands down Harry's back he bent down and spread his cheeks, wetting his fingers and then spitting for extra lube. Despite what Harry said, he was still tight to the touch as Draco eased a finger inside, groaning almost as loud as Harry did when the muscles clenched down around the digit.

"Shh, just relax, it won't take long."

"Please don't," Harry begged, rocking his hips back, deliciously eager for more. "I'll cum before you know it."

Draco closed his eyes and groaned again, every muscle urging him to hurry, to make the actual sex worth it. He worked Harry a little quicker, easing another finger into his tight arse before he felt he was loose enough. Tugging his underwear down, Draco spat on his dick and slicked himself up, his fingers still working on Harry's arse until he was sure the man would be putty in his hands.

"I hope you're ready, cause I'm not waiting anymore," he warned as he came to almost kneel on the bed behind him, removed his fingers and position his swollen, leaking head at Harry's entrance. "Ready?" he panted.

"Mnng," was all Harry mustered as Draco pushed the tip inside. Hot muscles clamped around him instantly and Harry let out a long, low groan that made everything inside the blonde quake with lust. Fuck, he wasn't going to last! He hadn't even started and he was already going mad!

"Fuck, Harry, you're so tight," he growled as he eased his head in and out, the ridge catching on the tight ring of muscle and making him sweat.

"Draco-o-o-o!"

It was all the encouragement he needed. With his hands on Harry's arching back, he slowly eased himself into the burning tightness beneath him, inching ... inching ... inching ...

"Fuck!" he cursed as he pushed completely inside, the hot dampness of Harry's thighs pressing against his own. Spots flooded his vision as he gasped for cold air. He needed to cool down, calm down enough to focus.

Harry was panting like a dog in heat under him. He bowed his head and arched his hips back. Draco growled low in his throat as he straightened up, gripped those hips and pulled out -then slammed back in. A cry of pleasure was his reward. Each time he did it, the moans would make his cock even harder. Teasing Harry was endlessly rewarding but he wasn't going to last. Neither of them were.

"Draco, please ..." the brunette begged into the cushions, his body barely strong enough to keep his spread legs in place. That was enough teasing. With one last pull out, Draco slammed forward, sliding his hips faster and faster inside the tight heat, the muscles clenching around him, spurring him on until he was blinded by his own libido.

"Harry, I'm gonna cum -" he grunted out in warning.

"Wait." The brunette crawled off of Draco's dick, making him wince. He recovered quickly as he fisted himself, the brunette lying on his back, legs spread and his skin flushed pink. "In me ..." he panted as he rocked his hips. Draco obliged without thought, the sight of Harry's vibrant green eyes rolling back in his head driving him insane. With Harry's legs around his waist, he thrust harder and faster until he dropped over the younger man, spilling his seed deep inside him and moaning loudly. Every muscle burned as his mouth fell open in an almost silent scream. The burn of Harry's eyes making him melt and explode all at once.

He collapsed on top of Harry, completely spent and still seeing spots. "Fuck ..." was all he managed to breathe as he gasped, desperate for cold air to fill his over-heated lungs. Harry shifted under him and he rolled off. "That was ..."

"Yeah," Harry gushed his chest still heaving, his erection still pressing against Draco's stomach.

Grinning wickedly, Draco said, "Let me take care of that."

Harry tasted clean and sweet when he came down Draco's throat not five minutes later. Not like the few other guys Draco had sucked off. Their diets had left a bad taste in his mouth. Not Harry -Harry was, for lack of a better word, the perfect flavour.

Dropping heavily down onto the mattress -after Harry had cleaned himself up with weak, trembling hands -finally, able to breathe again, Draco turned to the brunette and felt fear grip him all over again. Sadly, the thought process of words didn't exist in the post-sex mentality. "I hope I'm not just convenient for you," he said softly.

"What?" Harry frowned heavily as he scooted over onto his side. "What do you mean?"

"This. Us. Whatever we are."

"Draco, we're not anything," Harry said, "We can be, though." He said as an afterthought, the look of defensiveness evident on the blonde's features.

Rubbing a hand down his face, questions and politics and the press caught up to his brain. If he was with Harry it would be a spectacle; headlines would call him possessed, claim that Harry was under a mind-control curse. They'd be hounded about town, wouldn't even be able to go down Diagon Alley without photo's being snapped.

He could kiss Knockturn Alley goodbye completely.

Would it be wise to be the Wonder Boy's other half? Not only that, but his other -gay- half? The papers would explode when they'd print that their golden boy was gay, but also dating a Malfoy? An ex-Death Eater?

Not to mention the back lash he could get from his Father.

Or the backlash Harry would get from the entire Weasley Clan.

Was it worth it? No, probably not. Maybe behind closed doors, but that would only be a quarter of their life at best. Half, if they were lucky. Not to mention, how would it affect Harry's career?

He couldn't do that to him. Wouldn't do that to him. He refused to be the burden that caused Harry's fall from grace.

Taking his hand away from under Harry's he turned a cold shoulder to the younger man and focused on sitting up and redressing himself. "We can't," he murmured. "As much as I want to, you know it would only lead to disaster for both of us. I won't be the one to do that to you."

 _'I care about you too much,'_ went unsaid but Harry heard it all the same.

"Okay," he said slowly as he sat up, shifting to sit beside the blonde and not giving into the urge to rest his head on the sharp, pale shoulder. "I can respect that."

"I'm glad you do." His words felt hollow to him but Harry wasn't calling him a bastard or throwing him out of the room. That was good at least.

"Still friends?"

Draco breathed a small smile, finally relaxing a little, even if the ache in his chest wouldn't abate. "Still friends."

Outside the snow continued to fall, making the roads and pavements covered in a thin layer of snow and ice. They were impassable to anybody who didn't wish to break their necks. So, for their last day in Italy, Draco and Harry spent their day inside, playing a few boards game from their re-sized trunks and ordering more room service for dinner, sans the ice cream.

Draco didn't think he could eat ice cream again without remembering.

That night they went to bed without kissing or touching one another. Although, somewhere in the darkness in the early hours of the morning, Draco felt his heart skip a beat when he was dimly aware of Harry sliding over the mattress and draping an arm tentatively over the blonde's waist. Draco remained still, enjoying the sensation before lacing their fingers together.

They weren't in London yet.

Reality could wait a while longer.

* * *

 **A/N: Hope you enjoy the update! x**


	15. Paris & Publishers

**A/N: Thank you for all the lovely reviews and support! Also a big thanks to FanofBellaandEdward for proof-reading this for me!**

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen:**

 **Paris and Publishers**

"Are you sure you want to talk to publishing companies now?" Hermione asked as she stirred her latte. She was sat across from Draco at a coffee shop in Diagon Alley. It had been a month since she and Ron had started visiting Harry at Dr. Jacob's practice and so far things had been going relatively smoothly. They weren't out of the woods yet, Draco knew that, but he also knew that he couldn't have kept them away forever.

Harry would never have forgiven that.

Draco cleared his throat and adjusted his collar. He made a point of sipping his iced tea with lemon slices before plucking up a biscuit and hanging it over the edge of the table. Seeker leaned his wet black nose up, sniffing around before he swiped the biscuit out of Draco's long fingers with a sweep of his tongue. He crunched it between his teeth, his tail wagging against Draco's ankles under the table as he sat on his haunches, practically grinning and patiently awaiting another treat.

Draco smiled softly before offering him another one.

Hermione shook her head as she raised her cup, "You shouldn't do that, you know. He'll get used to it and hover around you and Harry when you're eating."

Draco rolled his eyes and ignored the disapproving tone. "Well it's been a good number of years and he hasn't done it, so why would he start now?"

Hermione pursed her lips but didn't continue the argument. She could sense when a topic would lead to a fight, at least he hoped she knew by now. She decided, rather smartly, to change the subject. "So why did you want to start meeting with publishers?"

"I just want to push the boat out and try and get something done."

Hermione pressed her lips together. "You're worried that they won't accept you because of who you are, aren't you?"

Draco felt himself stiffen a little before nodding his head curtly. "Partly. I'd also like to get a guaranteed deal before moving on and completing the story."

"Surely you'd complete it regardless?"

He narrowed his eyes a fraction, "Why are you suddenly so interested?"

"Well there's no way to deny that we've had issues. I think a lot of it has stemmed from the fact that ... when you two went away for those five months ... none of us knew what was happening. We got the rare postcard from Harry but there's only so many details you can put on a postcard." She drew in a deep breath and picked lint off her coat. "I don't know I just ... we were left in the dark, Ron and I. When Harry tried to tell us, I admit I didn't want to hear any of it. Ron refused outright. I'd always been willing to give you the benefit of the doubt but ... Harry disappearing with you? It was out of the blue. I didn't like to think he was doing it of his own free will."

"So it would have made more sense for him to have run off with Ron's bratty sister instead?" Draco quipped. Years had passed and he was still bitter? He was definitely his father's son.

Hermione, thankfully, ignored his gripe. "Well I can honestly hope one of the publishers does something for you. I know I'd like to read what you two got up to on that holiday."

"You realise you'd know by now, right? If you and your husband and his family weren't so keen to hold a grudge because it's so much easier than admitting when you're wrong."

Hermione sighed and, for once, actually looked on the verge of guilt. "I know. We've not made it easy on either of you. We just miss him. Suddenly being cut out of something so important as his love-life ... hurt."

Draco eyed her but didn't say anything. He kept his attention on the glass in front of him as well as his right hand lazily drifting down to stroke Seeker's fur. His stomach twisted as a bell chimed further up the street. It was nearly time for him to get going. He fingers tightened around Seeker's lead. He didn't want to leave, even if the alternative was spending more time with Granger. Clearing his throat he took his time standing up, picking lint off his jacket and unwinding the leather lead from around his chair arm before handing it to Hermione. "Try and make sure he doesn't cause too much mischief," he intoned.

She took the lead with a tight-lipped smile. Truthfully, it was nice of her to even bother taking care of the dog. Ordinarily he would let his mother and father take care of Seeker at the manor, where he could enjoy strutting about the manor gardens. However, last night Granger had called as he was getting in from his evening walk with Seeker and he'd been far too weary to argue with her.

"It's going to be okay, you know?" she said as she wound the lead-handle around her wrist and stood up beside him. "The war is over. Both sides have paid the price. It's time we all moved on."

Draco narrowed his eyes and felt his jaw tighten. "That's all a bit rich considering the way the Weasleys have been behaving. Why the sudden change of heart?"

Hermione sighed. "Well before I was a 'Weasley', I was a 'Granger'. Like everyone said, I was the smartest witch of our age. Besides, being away from Harry, even when comatose has ... well, it's put a lot of things into perspective. I guess in a weird way, I should thank you for that."

"I'm glad it helped," he said.

She smiled, a little softer this time. "Go. Get to your appointment. Seeker will be fine with me. You will ... let me know how it goes ... right?" she asked somewhat nervously just as he turned to walk away.

Half-turning back, Draco hesitated. On the one hand, it was no business of Granger's whether he got anyone interested or not. Then again she had been kind enough to turn over a new leaf, so to speak. He supposed he couldn't be a bitter little snake all his life. "Yes, I will. I'll let you know if anything productive comes of it."

Her smile made him feel uncomfortably optimistic as he bowed his head to the pavement and made his way up through the narrow alley of shops towards the publishing house.

~0~

"That was amazing," Harry gushed breathlessly.

Draco swallowed heavily and wiped his damp fringe out of his eyes. It _had_ been amazing; sex with Harry was rarely anything but. They'd been at it like rabbits for the last week before and after travelling to Paris. Draco hadn't been able to stop himself; the urge to be as physically close to Harry as possible burned in every breath he took near the man.

Tonight was their last night in Paris and Draco had wanted it to be as romantic as possible, especially considering he wouldn't get a chance to do so back home. In France, the status of Death Eater didn't hang around his head and his newfound confidence in muggle spaces made finding a restaurant to eat in a lot more manageable.

They'd had a lovely dinner in a four-star restaurant -Harry said that there was only so many frivolities he could accept especially when he was paying for it -a walk along the Seine, despite being bundled up in thick coats laced with heating charms. Their noses had gotten pink but Draco was more than happy to warm Harry's mouth up as soon as they entered their suite.

Now, two hours later, they were exhausted.

Rolling onto his side, Harry smiled down at him, his glasses discarded somewhere in the tangled covers. "You know ... as sappy as this'll sound ... it's going to be so hard not to jump you whenever I see you now."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Draco rolled his eyes before gulping down more air. "I'm on house arrest still, dummy." He flicked the end of Harry's nose, smirking when the brunette wrinkled his nose and huffed.

"Are you ... Are you glad you came on this holiday with me?" he asked, stroking circles into the sheets.

Draco frowned up at him. "Of course. It was either this or trying to make polite conversation with mother every hour of the day about what part of the manor we were in."

Harry grimaced, "Okay in that respect I'm glad I brought you with me."

"And here I was thinking it was because I was such amazing company!"

"Tosser," Harry shoved the blonde before stretching his arms and sighing, "Merlin, I don't wanna move."

"Good thing it's almost midnight or you might have to." Harry huffed before a shiver ran down his spine. He wanted to claw a shirt on over his torso but the effort to move was just too taxing. Instead he rolled over onto his side and nuzzled his head up under Draco's arm. Draco smiled and draped his arms around the brunette, lazily teasing his fingers through the dark mess of hair. "You know, back at school, I'd had no idea you were so ... affectionate."

"I could say the same to you."

"I guess we've both been making up for it all, huh?"

Harry smiled lazy, his fingers stroking over the taut muscles of the blonde man's stomach. The muscles were rock hard from hours of relentless Quidditch both in and out of Hogwarts. The fine trails of downy hair were feather soft at first, then grew more wiry the further south his fingers trailed. Draco hummed low in his throat before raking damp hair out of his eyes. "Anything you want to do in the morning before we need to be at the apparition point?"

"Nope, I could lay in this bed all day. I've seen most of Europe and other places, I'm content for now. I did what I set out to do."

"Which was?"

"Get away from it all," Harry mused softly, "I couldn't bear the idea of just ... going to all those press conferences, speaking out about how sorry I am for the people who suffered."

"Aren't you?" Draco frowned.

"Well yeah, but they'd never print it the way I'd want to say it; I'd want to say I was sorry for everyone, including Slytherins and purebloods alike, everyone who lost family. No one would accept that. They'd edit it all completely. Not to mention, any mere mention of me saying the words 'Slytherin' or even 'Malfoy' would result in everyone thinking I was becoming the next Dark Lord."

Draco couldn't help but scoff. "You have to admit it'd be pretty funny, watching you try to control people. You'd trip over your own tongue let alone your feet."

"Hey! I'm not that clumsy!"

"Harry, I _saw_ you at the Yule Ball."

Harry pouted before relenting. "Fine, I can't exactly argue with that." He felt Draco tweak a strand of his hair at the nape of his neck. His eyelids were starting to get heavy but his brain was far too wired to even consider going to sleep any time soon. "Do you think your mother will be happy with her Christmas presents?"

Draco smirked up at the ceiling. He'd gotten his mother a brand new pensieve in an opalescent basic and he knew, just knew, she would place it on her vanity in her dressing room and spend many an afternoon in there until her house arrest was over. "Definitely. It'll go well with the ornate bottles we bought in Turkey for me to store the memories in. I think it'll be the most sentimental Christmas gift I've gotten her since I was about five."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Well going to Belgium for the day to get everyone else's Christmas presents was a great idea."

"Of course it was," Draco stated, "They love food and Belgium is renowned for how amazing their chocolate is. Weasley will have a field day."

Harry snorted. "Do you want anything for Christmas?"

"Just your company on a few days will be enough of a gift," Draco said, "Trust me, as soon as my feet hit British soil, I'm a wanted man again. The safest place for me is the manor."

"I wish it wasn't," Harry murmured, his bright eyes downcast.

"Yeah well, all I can do is wait it out and see what happens when I'm allowed back on the streets."

"One day at a time. Things are still pretty raw right now."

"You really believe all that?" Draco asked, disbelief colouring his words.

The war on Harry's face made his stomach flip. "I _have_ to," he stressed, "What other alternative is there?"

~0~

Rejection was something that Draco had never gotten used to, not even since first year when Harry had rejection his hand so publicly. _That_ had stung something fierce. However, going from publishing house to publishing house in Diagon Alley was strenuous enough on the mind. He even then went into muggle London to try his luck at some of the wizarding publishers there. The rejection, some even in actual letter form, burned a hole through his pocket.

One had literally just been the word 'DEATH EATER SCUM!' in, what was hopefully, dark lipstick. That had been incinerated instantly.

Collecting Seeker from Hermione's house was nothing if an ordeal; he didn't want to leave, having too much fun chasing Rose and Hugo around as they fed him their homemade doggie treats. It had been a while since the dog had looked that happy. Draco just didn't have the energy to care for him in his usual way, not since Harry had been diagnosed.

The fact that Seeker still loved him was a miracle.

Dressed in a pair of slacks and a henley shirt, Draco collapsed down into the sofa where Seeker was already lying down, waiting for him. He channel surfed before finding a useless movie for background noise before he dropped his head back and closed his eyes, his long fingers threading through Seeker's silky, gold fur. Properly relaxing was rare these days and he was more than eager for his five minutes of peace.

He'd barely gotten to three and a half, before his Floo network flared open with a flash of green flames.

Frowning, he flexed his legs before standing up and dragging himself over to the hearth. The rug was soft through his trousers as he knelt down, the green flames offending his tired eyes. A face he didn't recognise peered back at him; it was a woman in her late thirties, if he had to guess, with small horn-rimmed glasses and a mass of curls framing her face.

"Hello?" she said, "Is this the home of Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes," there was no point in lying, "Who's asking?"

"My name is Winnefred Honeybutton. I believe you came to speak to a colleague of mine about optioning a book?"

Draco rubbed his face. His brain wasn't co-operating. He'd been to too many publishing houses. "Which one do you work for?"

"We're the Dragon Quills Publishing House."

"Oh." One of the nicer rejections he'd gotten. "Was there something you wanted to ask me?"

"Well, I had a look through the copy my colleague took for our official rejection file, and I admit I started reading it and ... well, I like your style, Mr. Malfoy. I think this novel has potential. Not to mention, there hasn't been a good 'true story' in years."

Despite her professional gushing, Draco felt himself take a double-take. "Wait, are you saying you liked my story? The true one?"

"Do you have any others?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well ... no."

"Then yes the true one. The one with you and Harry Potter? It's darling! Not to mention the few copies of holiday snaps in there. I never would have been able to picture Harry Potter getting stung by a jellyfish if I hadn't seen the photo."

Draco had to fight back a smirk. Jellyfish whilst splashing around the Turkish coast? Only Harry would get such luck. Draco hadn't been able to resist a snap before taking Harry to the first aid post. "Well there are a lot more snaps, I just didn't want these to circulate too much."

"Oh understandable!" she nodded. "Well, I don't want to say it's all set in stone over a fire-call of all place. However, if you're not busy tomorrow morning, perhaps we could meet at the Dragonscale Inn for brunch and to discuss your publishing contract."

Draco felt his stomach flip. "So ... tomorrow morning, I'll have a publishing deal? A real life publishing deal?"

"Of course, dear boy. My connections at the Quibbler will be so thrilled."

"Connections?" he frowned, "Who?"

"Luna Lovegood. She was in the year below you, I believe. She spoke quite fondly of you. I fear she may love the novel idea even more than I do."

Now Draco really was struggling to keep himself from smiling. His luck was finally turning around. "Um ... okay, thank you. I'll see you tomorrow morning then."

"Is ten o'clock okay with you?"

"Perfect," he said, "Goodnight Ms. Honeybutton."

The fire-call disconnected. Draco sat on his haunches, staring into the empty grate as night fell outside the window. Something was finally going right for him. In less than twelve hours he was going to have an official publishing contract to, not only clear his name and Harry's, but also start doing some good in the world.

Ten o'clock the next morning, he signed the papers.

* * *

 **A/N: I decided to stop being bleak and give you guys a little ray of sunshine! Enjoy! Please R &R!**


	16. Covers & Calais

**A/N: Thank you for all the lovely reviews and support! Also a big thanks to FanofBellaandEdward for proof-reading this for me!**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen:**

 **Covers and Calais**

Dr. Jacob was really pleased with Harry's vitals. He was showing marked improvements and the scans were showing that his immune system was steadily rebuilding itself. Of course he warned them that they weren't out of the woods yet by a long shot, but the fact that he was showing any improvements was a leap in the right direction. Draco tried not to let any of it go to his head, but there was a change in the way he spent his visits with Harry as well; he took care to lift Harry up in the bed on a mound of pillows. He'd take care to change his pyjamas, no spells included as they irritated the skin. He wasn't told off for doing any of it, so he took it in his stride and every other day he'd change Harry's clothes, wash them at home and then bring them back.

He spent most of his time torn between negotiating with his new publishing agent, Winnie Honeybutton -she'd insisted on him calling her 'Winnie' -being at the hospital with Harry, and taking Seeker for walks. It was getting to the point that he had no free time for anyone else, so they normally came on the evening walks with him and Seeker. They'd stop off at a cafe, have a coffee and some sweet treats, before taking the long way home.

It was a nice change of routine after the year of grief.

Early one Monday morning Draco found himself in a warmly decorated office after winding his way through the back streets of central London. Ms. Honeybutton -Winnie he kept reminding himself -was busy pouring him some iced tea into a tall glass. Ice clinked as she handed it over the desk. He sipped the drink and tried to clear the grogginess from his mind. He was ever so tired. Sleep was a rare memory for him and the shift in temperature wasn't helping much.

"Thank you for coming to see me on such short notice," she said with a smile. She had that voice, the voice that no matter what she said, it would always leave you feeling humble.

"I was curious about what you needed to see me for. You didn't really mention anything in your letter."

"Oh no, well, I wanted it to be a little bit of a surprise. Not to mention I didn't want you to worry and over-think anything." She paused for a moment before asking, "You didn't have any other plans today did you?"

Draco shook his head. "Other than going to the hospital later, I'm free. Why? Is this going to take long?"

"It depends." She sipped her own tea before opening a drawer on the other side of her desk. From it she pulled out a thick stack of papers, shuffled them a little, before tapping them into a neat pile. She slid it between them, so it sat proudly in the middle of the desk.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Your manuscript," she replied with a bright smile. There was something there, hidden in that smile, like she hadn't revealed her true reason from bringing him down here yet. His skin itched to find out. He stared at the pile of papers. Was that really it? "That's over five hundred pages, Draco. It's going to be one long read."

He frowned even harder. "Did you -want me to cut it down? I didn't realise how long it was. I've only been giving it to you chapter by chapter."

"Oh no! No, don't cut it down! It's such a wonderful story so far and the photos are amazing!" she gushed. "No, what I brought you in for this morning was because I wanted to talk to you about ... the book cover."

"The ... cover?" he blinked. He hadn't been expecting that.

"Yes. Have you got any ideas about what you want it to be?" She leaned closer a little, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

"I ... I sort of thought that someone was going to ... come up with something else?" he stated.

"You mean like a photo of Mr. Potter on the front cover?" she asked, practically reading his mind.

"I ... yes." He bowed his head. It sounded so ... horrid for him to even think that. He loved Harry. It would admittedly sell but ... he didn't want some cheap gimmick. That's what everyone seemed to do with anything remotely 'Harry' related.

"That doesn't have to be the case. Find a design you like," she stated as she reached out for a slim leaflet. "There are some general ideas in there but I don't know if you're going to go for a different option."

"Like what?" he asked, as he took the leaflet from her. He flicked through a couple of the glossy pages. The designs were basic, but still underwhelming. He wanted the cover to be reminiscent of what the entire book would be about.

"Is there, perhaps, a photo of the both of you that you like?" she asked, her hands fluttering about as she spoke. Draco never liked people who spoke with their hands. He'd been raised in a household where everything had to be upright, perfected, elegant -talking with your hands was so ... plebeian. He shook his head and tried to re-focus.

"I -I'm not sure," he mused as he leaned back in his chair, the sunlight gleaming on the mound of paper. This was the biggest decision he'd had. The cover would sell the book. A bad cover would make sure the book was instantly in the bargain bin by the end of the first week. Closing his eyes he couldn't help but let out a soft sigh.

"You don't have to decide right now, but I was looking through a lot of the photos you copied for the book, and I was thinking we could pin them up and see if any of those are to your liking?" she suggested.

Draco blinked slowly before nodding, "Okay if you think that would work."

"It's worth a go, right?" she smiled brightly.

Draco didn't really have an answer. Winnie didn't wait for one. Instead, she got out of her desk chair and made her way towards the door, beckoning for him to follow over her shoulder. Feeling suddenly weary, he forced himself out of the chair and followed.

~0~

They had decided on taking the ferry back from Calais to Dover. They had debated about it a lot and had, eventually, decided to flip a coin. The muggle way had won out.

Draco wouldn't have minded so much if the weather had been nicer; the iron grey clouds powdered the bleak sky, the washes were choppy and made him feel nauseated. They were huddled inside, their thick winter coats laced with heating charms as they sipped their plastic cups of coffee. It was a bitter morning. The wind whistled through every crack and crevice and Draco couldn't wait to get back to England. As soon as the ferry docked, they'd be on British soil and one step closer to being home.

Not that the manor was going to feel like a 'home' once the anklet on his leg was adjusted for his house-arrest.

Then there would be the meeting to establish his behaviour on his little excursion.

Other than that, he'd be confined to the same four walls, day in and day out, whether he liked it or not. Like his mother, the memories of the holiday would be his only escape. The very idea of it was daunting.

In the far, hazy distance, the Dover shore was visible.

He felt like there was so much that needed to be said to his companion, but every time he looked at Harry huddled up next to him, it was as though he lost the ability to speak.

"We'll be home soon," Harry murmured, his voice sounding less than enthusiastic.

"Where will you go from the apparition station?" Draco asked, "Will you go to the Weasleys or just have some time to yourself for the evening?"

Harry hummed, "I'm not sure. It'll be weird not having company after all this time. I guess I might visit the Weasleys. They don't seem to mind my dropping in unannounced."

Draco didn't say anything. His hand felt itchy. He wanted Harry to ask for his company, but he didn't want to force it. He felt a weight settle against his shoulders. He could feel his freedom slipping away. Soon he wouldn't even be able to step outside the front gates of his house, they'd have to do everything for themselves and get the Aurors to do their shopping for them. All mail would be opened and inspected.

It would be the end to his privacy.

He'd never be able to write to Harry the way he wanted -not that he was sure he would even if he could.

Fire-calling would be out of the question.

"Would you ... want to come to dinner with me?" Harry asked, snapping Draco out of his glaring across the channel.

"I ... what? At the _Weasleys_?" he asked, incredulously. Was he joking? The Malfoys and the Weasleys were blood enemies from decades back, probably even a century at least. Either way, it went back so far that even his own father was fuzzy on the details, not that he'd ever admit to it.

"Yeah why not?"

"Um ... THE WAR?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "So what? This is a good time to start building bridges."

Draco wanted to argue that it was the stupidest plan that the four-eyed git had ever hatched. Unfortunately, the whole losing-his-virginity thing had made his mind softer around the edges. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the notion before shaking his head, a breeze ruffling the nape of his neck. "I don't think so, Harry," was all he said.

After all that time together, Harry had noticed certain moments where the topic needed to be dropped. This was one of those moments.

They docked within the hour and were soon stepping into a disabled bathroom store at the station. Harry took the port-key -in the shape of a bobble eyed key ring -and tapped it with his want to activate it. Draco reached out and felt the wind sucked out of his lungs as they were transported away. The bathroom door unlocked itself once they'd vanished.

They landed in a side-road of Diagon Alley.

The air was cold and burned at the back of their throats, their noses were instantly pink and their breath came out in plumes. Overhead, small snowflakes drifted down here and there.

"Home sweet home," Harry murmured as he tilted his face up to the sky.

Draco watched as a stray snowflake spiralled down and caught on Harry's jet black lashes. He wanted to brush it aside. Harry blinked and the snowflake melted away. Draco was suddenly restless, his fingers curling and flexing in his coat pocket. He wanted to have more time with Harry but the day was already getting on. Somewhere down the street, the large clock chimed 2PM.

"Do you ... Did you want to get some coffee?" Harry asked.

Every part of Draco wanted to say 'yes'. However, he found himself shaking his head. "I should probably get back to mother. She'll worry if I'm not home before dinner." It was a weak excuse, but it was the only one he had. He didn't want to draw out the 'goodbye'. It was hard enough already, let alone dragging it out for whoever knew how long.

Harry could see through the lie as clear as a glass window pane. He didn't comment on it, though. He just pursed his lips and stared up at the blonde for a moment before saying, "That's fair. I guess I'll ... write to you, then?"

The question hung in the frosty air for a moment.

Draco inclined his head, "Yes, of course. I'll write to you." He had no intention of keeping that promise. Now that they were back in their reality, there would be no time for him in Harry's life. He had figured as much but it still hurt in his chest to think about it.

Harry rummaged around in his pocket before drawing out the small magnet that was Draco's portkey back into the manor. As soon as he was within the perimeter his anklet would register to his previous restrictions for house arrest. He handed it over and as soon as it touched Draco's skin it was activated. Draco turned it over a few times whilst waiting. His heart flooded with dread as he looked up at Harry -his Harry -for one last time. "Harry I l-"

With a 'pop' he was gone.

Harry was left standing in the grey street with his stomach knotting tightly. The wind stung his eyes and nose and he tried not to feel the loneliness sinking through his veins. "See you," he said to no one in particular before hugging his coat tighter around him and Apparating home.

~0~

"So you have no idea which ones you want to use?" his mother asked as they sat, drinking tea in the flat. She looked so out-of-place in his home, like if the Queen were slumming it in a local pub. Very unrefined for a lady of class.

Draco shook his head. "All those memories are captured to perfection. It's like asking me to pick my favourite moment of that holiday and that's just not fair."

Narcissa smiled as she lazily stroked her hand through Seeker's golden fur. He wagged his tail and rested his head in her lap. It was such a bizarre sight. "How about you ask a few people and narrow the options down? Choose ten you like, and gradually narrow it down from there?"

Draco scrunched up his nose. "But then that's like letting them decide instead of me. This is meant to be my project."

"I know, sweetheart," she said, "I just think that if you're struggling a lot, it doesn't hurt to get a second option, even if it just is the one."

"I wouldn't even know who to ask, really. I don't want to ask Granger. Weasley might find it awkward and uncomfortable."

"Why not ask your father?" Narcissa suggested.

Draco snorted. As undignified as it was, he snorted loudly. Narcissa frowned at the action, an admonishment already shaping on her lips before Draco cut across her. "As if father would give two shits about this cover. He probably still lives in denial that Harry Potter is actually his soon-to-be son-in-law."

"You know that's not true, Draco."

He rolled his eyes and sipped at his own tea. The truth was, he had at least done the first part of what his mother had suggested; he'd leafed through an entire albums worth of photos from that holiday before making copies of the ten that he felt best represented the tone of the book. The problem was, they were all so perfect. Now he needed to choose the best of the best.

Looking up at his mother scratching Seeker behind the ears, he reached down by the side of his armchair and lifted the folder up onto his lap. "Would you mind, maybe, helping me to narrow it done to five?"

Narcissa smiled before reaching out a hand. "Come over here and show me. Let me see what I can do."

Half an hour later, Narcissa had worked her magic and narrowed it down to five. It would have been four, but she had trouble deciding on which of the last two she liked. In the end she just threw her hands up and said that five was the best she could do. Not that Draco was complaining. He was so grateful! He respected his mother's opinion and after much discussion, he completely agreed on the ones she'd weeded out of the pile, declaring them too cliché or otherwise too lacking in 'something'. He wanted that 'something' whatever it was. Ms. Honeybutton was counting on a vast selling point with the cover.

That woman was sweet but deadly.

The photos they had narrowed it down to were the first one being of Harry taking a selfie of the two of them at the beach. Draco had an odd, bewildered expression on his face which Narcissa said made him look 'more like the child you should have been'. The second was of a four-shot of them in a photo-booth; the first one was normal, then Harry fighting Draco off as he tried to steal his glasses, then Draco WEARING said glasses, and then the last one of Harry surprising him with a kiss. It was so childish but oddly sweet. The third was of Harry replicating a miniature Hogwarts out of sand with Draco's shadow stretching out in front of him. The fourth was of the two of them diving near the coral reefs in nothing but trunks, flippers and snorkels. Narcissa said no one would ever believe that a Malfoy did something so 'muggle' without seeing proof of it first-hand. The last photo was of the two of them on the top deck of the yacht, over-looking the ocean as the sun-set below the horizon. It had been the day Harry had cuddled up close to Draco's chest and nestled into the folded of the coat. The way the pinkish glow tinted their skin as well as the soft breeze ruffling their hair ... it was so tender.

He was going to have a real tough time choosing.

~0~

Draco didn't write to Harry that week. Nor did he write the following week. He tried to get on with normal life as much as possible, which was difficult considering the weather was too bitter to walk around the gardens and he couldn't show the memories to his mother until the twenty-fifth which was only in a few days. Until then he tried to keep himself occupied in other ways that didn't involve touching himself in the shower, or reading the dusty old tomes from the library.

In truth he was completely and utterly bored.

Until the morning that his breakfast came along with a letter addressed in Harry's untidy handwriting. Really, the man needed to learn the art of good penmanship.

Draco was torn between reading the envelope and just incinerating it. Unfortunately, he was still banned from using his wand, so that left tearing the paper up and burning it the old fashioned way. Unfortunately for him, the tight little ball of torn pieces was spat out onto his hearth, cooled down from where it smouldered, and then repaired itself right before his very eyes.

He _really_ hated magic sometimes.

Swiping the letter up from the floor he collapsed in his armchair and unfolded it. It read:

 _Draco,_

 _First off, I knew you'd rip the letter up that's why I had Hermione put a counter charm on it. She didn't care much as to why I needed one for a letter to you, but I eventually persuaded her to do it. I don't much like the fact that I was more than likely right about you._

 _Now down to business; I won't lie but I am hurt that you've sought to simply end this friendship. I thought we had something ... even if friendship is all it turns out to be. I found someone in you that I truly enjoy being around, Draco. I don't care that no one else sees it. They don't need to see it as long as I do._

 _Please ... don't shut the world out anymore._

 _Harry._

Damn the four-eyed git for knowing him so well, even after almost two weeks apart. Draco sighed and looked down at the letter one last time. So maybe he couldn't burn the letter, but he could hide it away so he didn't have to look at it again.

Ah, if only it were that simply.

Harry was relentless.

The letters started coming once a day and then after three days, it was twice a day. They were never really about anything important, just random bouts of thinking and conversation topics. Draco never replied to any of them. That is, not until the one that arrived with his breakfast on the morning of the twenty-fourth of December.

 _Draco,_

 _Is the invitation still open to see you tonight? If yes, reply. If not ... I hope your mum likes her present._

 _Harry._

Draco had read the letter over and over again. It was more just a thin roll of parchment, no thicker than two inches. On the one hand, he had wanted nothing more than to see Harry, especially after two weeks of nothing but solitary confinement in the dreary manor. On the other hand, he didn't want to subject Harry to a dismal Christmas Eve or even Christmas day at his home, especially when the alternative was to curl up in the Weasleys' misshapen house, surrounded by so many friends and families they'd need to extend their bottom floor into the surrounded gardens just to have enough breathing room. The alternative was bright, loud and joyous whereas Draco's option was bleak, grey, miserable and no doubt, so quiet you could hear spiders making webs in the furthest corner of the manor.

No. He wouldn't subject anyone else to that misery.

Filing the letter away with the many others in his desk drawer, he finished his breakfast and got dressed for the day, annoyed that his tailored trousers rumpled over the anklet. He needed to get on with his day.

Once upon a time, Malfoy Manor would host so many Ministry functions that it would be elaborately decorated all through the December month and into the New Year. Unfortunately, since the war, the Ministry wanted nothing to do with the Malfoys other than find any excuse to put them behind bars. This year the Manor was only decorated on the lower level, and then, only really in the dining room, the front parlour and the entrance hall. Everywhere else was bare.

The decorations were simply spirals of silver tinsel and a simple yet classy tree in both the entrance hall and in the parlour. Intricate family heirlooms -the only decorations they had access to at the moment -adorned the trees and around the windows. At least it was vaguely Christmas-y. Almost cosy in its simplicity.

Dinner that evening was a quiet affair, just the three of them down one end of the dining room table, making polite conversation. All the gushing would have to wait until everyone had opened their few presents the following morning.

Once they had eaten they all retired to the front parlour where Lucius obliged in lighting the fire before pouring each of them a small tumbler of Firewhiskey. Draco didn't normally like the stuff, but his father and mother were being so gentile with one another as well as towards him, perhaps the realisation that they were, at last, safe in the confines of their family home, that he didn't have the heart to put any negativity into the evening.

He didn't want to break the spell of tranquillity.

After a few hours enjoying one another's company for the first time in years around a warmly lit fire, Draco kissed both his mother and his father on the cheek, something he hadn't done since before Hogwarts, before retiring to his room. He wasn't remotely tired, but he thought that his parents needed some time to themselves. Lying in bed, he tossed and turned in his cool sheets, wondering absently what Harry was up to right now.

Was he still wide awake, slightly drunk and making very loud conversation? Was he going around hugging all the Weasleys and the others who smiled at him? Was the Weaslette curled up with her head in his lap and stroking her long fingers over his muscles? Muscles that Draco himself and stroked not two weeks ago. Not only stroked, but kissed and memorised.

Jealousy twisted inside him as he burrowed under his thick duvet and tried to force sleep to come.

He felt like he had barely slept for half an hour before a distant banging could be heard. Grunting he almost called out for a house elf to get it when the reality of his situation hit him through his sleep-fogged brain.

"The fuck is this, some Auror prat coming to drag me in on Christmas fucking day," he grumbled, tying his dressing gown around him as he padded barefoot down the main staircase. He really wouldn't put it past the Ministry to work overtime on Christmas day just to come and drag his arse in still in his pyjamas. Whoever was banging on the door was a relentless pain in the arse. "All right, all right!" he barked out, "I'm coming!" He crossed the entrance hall, unfastened the locks manually, before tugging the heavy door open. "What the hell do you want?" he sneered.

A pair of green eyes widened slightly before smiling. "Merry Christmas to you too," he said, "I love that you're not a morning person.Makes you easier to annoy."

Draco blinked through his sleep-crusted eyes. Yes, he really was here. At 6 o'clock in the fucking morning. "H-Harry ..." he breathed before a chilled wind bit at his ankles. "What the damn hell is wrong with you?"

* * *

 **A/N: To be fair, I'd hate to be woken up that early ANY DAY, let alone Christmas day! Please let me know your thoughts. R &R! x**


	17. Presents & Publicity

**A/N: Thank you for all the lovely reviews and support! Also a big thanks to FanofBellaandEdward for proof-reading this for me!**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen:**

 **Presents and Publicity**

The book went to print one month later.

Ms. Honeybutton tried to encourage Draco to consider going on a book-tour like a lot of other authors but the blonde man adamantly refused. There was no way he could be away from Harry for so long. Even though she said he could Apparate to and from the hospital ward as often as he liked, he still refused. He felt terrible as it was just spending more and more time at the publishing house, over-seeing the production of his book. He always had to rush to get to the ward before visiting hours were over.

To some extent, he was a little grateful that Hermione and Ron made the effort to visit Harry now. He tried to get there as much as possible, but all the public events were draining him mentally and emotionally.

Even Seeker was suffering.

Draco had, reluctantly, managed to persuade his parents to look after the dog for the last week and a bit. At first it had been strange for everyone involved, but Lucius had grown fond of the golden dog as well as Seeker being over-joyed at being about to have all that space to run around in.

The following Monday, he needed to attend a press conference to coincide with the first day of his book hitting the shelves. He was sick to his stomach as the cameras flashed in his eyes and gave him a headache. He didn't really say anything to the journalists, not really. Winnie did most of the talking and verbally back-handed anyone who dared to try and bring up the fact that one of her clients was an ex-Death Eater. Whilst Draco was glad for it, he was also annoyed about the whole conference. He thought there would be more to it, instead of him seating, staring into the sea of judgemental faces.

He was missing valuable time with Harry. Dr. Jacob was insisting that the treatment was working and, should they be able to wake Harry, he should make a full recovery.

It was that 'if' that hung over Harry's recovery that was making Draco both want to stay away and be at his side at the same time. It was a conundrum he didn't much like. He was a coward, had known it since he was sixteen, and now he was being a coward again. Running away when things got tough was his bread and butter. Harry kept him grounded. If he lost Harry ...

He didn't know that he would cope.

"Thank you everyone, no further questions. Mr. Malfoy has other engagements to attend to." With that said, Ms. Honeybutton ushered Draco out of the conference room and into a side-room just a little further down the hall. As soon as they were inside, the door was locked and made sound-proof with various charms. "Phew! That was a lot of talking for one afternoon," she said as she sank down into a chair and relaxed.

"Sorry I sort of zoned out," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

She waved him off. "It happens to all new authors. Don't worry you'll get the hang of it."

"That's the problem," he said, "I don't think I'm going to be able to get the hang of it. The whole reason I wrote this book was so that I would be able to give back to the wizarding community. Whether any of them believe me is another matter."

"They're just old fogies who can't forget that you were a child in a war," she countered.

Shrugging, Draco carried on, "It's not even that. The doctor is saying that Harry should be able to wake up soon. I want to be there for that."

"I know, Draco, I know," she simpered as she leaned over and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You will be there for that. I couldn't let you miss it. Besides, just think how proud of you he'd be when he sees all that you've done for the both of you." Draco hummed, unconvinced. "Look, I know you're all doom and gloom right now but it'll get better. When the reviews start coming in as well as the money, you'll get more press coverage for when you make big donations."

"I know but ..."

"Not to mention the book tour will get a lot of attention -"

"Oh no, I've already told you that I can't do that to Harry. I'm sorry but a book tour is completely out of the question."

Winnie sighed and stared Draco straight in the eye. "Draco, you know the bottom line on this. If there's no book tour then there cannot be a book."

"Even though thousands of copies are being printed as we speak?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

She folded her arms and sat back in her chair. "Yes," was all she said. He sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. She leaned over in her chair and fixed him with a stern expression. "I'm sorry, Draco, but the fact of the matter is you need publicity to make this book sell. As touching a story as it is, people need to see you make an effort, that you've changed."

"And me saying it over and over will convince them?" he snapped.

"Well, it worked for the Daily Prophet, so why can't it work for you?"

He hated to admit it but she had a point. That damned Skeeter woman spouted so much rubbish and the public ate it all up because they didn't know any better. It would be different with him, though. They were all branded by the war, and he was no different. Not to mention he had the hideous scar on his left arm to prove it. With a sigh, he looked up at her and inclined his head. "I will think about it. That's all. I am not going to promise anything."

"Well, you'd have at least another three weeks to decide so there's no real rush." She gave him a softer smile. "It'll be okay, Draco. You'll see."

Draco said nothing. Instead he drew in a deep breath and mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of questions for when he stepped back out into the hall.

~0~

 _"What the damn hell is wrong with you?"_

"That's nice isn't it?" Harry quipped. "Not even a month back in the country and you turn into a snobby brat with no manners." He grinned wryly to show he was joking.

Draco scowled down at him. He was up early and standing in the wide open doorway, barefoot and freezing. "What do you want, Potter?" he growled through gritted teeth.

Harry sighed. How could he feel so rusty after only a few weeks? Raking a hand through his hair he watched as his breath plumed before him. "Look I ... I wanted you and your family to have a proper Christmas. The restrictions from the Ministry must make it seem ... gloomy."

"Oh for -Come inside, you git!" Draco grabbed the front of Harry's jumper and tugged him inside. He could always kick him out later but freezing his toes and bollocks off was NOT an option. Forcing the door back in place, the sudden warmth of the manor rushed around him. Turning to Harry, he folded his arms across his chest and scowled tiredly down at the brunette. "You were saying."

Harry floundered briefly. "I uh ... Wanted to see if Christmas was still open."

"What about the Weasleys?"

"They -well I told them I had other plans. Ginny got jealous and stormed off and Molly said it was insensitive of me to dangle a new relationship in her daughter's face." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It sort of came out that ... I'm gay."

If Draco hadn't been so tired he would have stuttered. However he was too shattered to register any emotion other than 'grumpy' on his face. "You're gay?" he repeated. "I'm guessing they didn't take that well." It wasn't a question.

Harry shook his head, "Not particularly. Ginny got angry. Molly and a few others were stunned. Quite a lot of people had 'guessed' apparently." He pulled a face. "Either way I figured they wouldn't want me there today. Hermione said she doesn't mind as long as I'm happy but ... well she's with Ron so it's trickier for her."

Draco rolled his eyes but didn't bother saying anything else. "So you're staying for the day?"

Harry looked a little sheepish. "If ... it's okay with you."

The blonde nodded. "Sure ... Just ... it's so early. I need to sleep."

Harry hummed, "Want me to just ... wait in the lounge?"

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Draco snapped. "Get upstairs now! My father will have a heart attack if he thought the elves left him Harry sodding Potter for him under the Christmas tree!"

Harry had to bite back a smile as Draco grabbed his arm and man-handled him up the grand staircase and along two corridors before getting to a set of tall, narrow doors. The manor got gloomier the further away they got from the entrance hall. The stone walls were cool as were the tiled floors. There were no windows along the corridors. Finally, when they stopped and eased into Draco's bedroom, Harry still had to squint to make out the basic furniture.

He still managed to stumble a lot though.

"Now, if you don't mind, Potter, keep your mouth shut for the next four hours," Draco ordered as he de-robed himself and crawled back over to the end of his four-poster bed. He was glad it was dark. He never did such things in front of company. Not that Harry's eye-sight was any good anyway.

"What am I meant to do for four hours?" Harry asked, shocked.

"I don't give a fuck, just let me sleep!" Draco pulled the covers over his head and sank back down into the warmth of his mattress. He heard a shuffling and assumed Harry was sorting himself out doing whatever the hell he wanted. He jerked upright when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "THE DAMN FUCK, POTTER!" he snarled, grabbing the front of Harry's shirt.

"Sorry! I ... I just wanted to know if -if you'd mind me sleeping a little?" he stammered. Draco growled through the dark. "W-What I meant was ... in your bed."

Draco growled again but shoved him away. Rolling onto his side he grumbled, "Get in and shut up."

Harry did his best to slide into the bed without jostling the blonde man too much, but it was difficult. He heard Draco sigh loudly a good few times but otherwise he didn't complain. The blankets and pillow were cool to the touch and Harry had to admit, if even to himself, that he was extremely tired from waking up much earlier than he ever had done in his life. He settled down in the darkness, listening to Draco's breathing and feeling his own heart beating wildly in his chest. He'd missed this. He'd missed the closeness he'd had with the blonde all throughout the last three weeks.

Last night at the Weasleys had felt off. Like something was missing from the festivities. He'd mostly sat off to the side in a daze, thinking about how much he'd prefer if Draco had been there with him. Of course it was all too fanciful; he wouldn't have been accepted at all. He wanted to reach out and touch the blonde. Eventually, he braved getting closer so that there was barely any space between them. He draped an arm over Draco's waist, relaxed, and finally drifted off.

Later that morning, Draco had over slept. As he dressed in a hurry, he dictated to Harry just how the morning and the rest of the day was to go.

"You'll have to wait outside, while I tell mother and father what's happened. Father won't be impressed but after a firm talking to, just nod along with what he says and he'll be happy. He just likes to feel superior. It's hard seeing as he's stuck in here for the next six months."

Harry nodded. "Look, even your father changed sides at the end of the war. I can't hold that against him. He made bad choices. He's owned up to them and he's paying the price. I can respect that."

Draco gave Harry a steady look before straightening the collar of his roll-neck cashmere jumper. "I know this won't be easy but -"

"Draco, it's fine!" Harry assured before yawning. "I know your family won't be easy. I never expected it to be. Look, I ... I've wanted to do this. The meeting-the-parents thing. I want everything to be normal with us."

"Harry ... we agreed ... there is no 'us'," Draco muttered darkly.

"Even friends see each other's families, Draco."

The blonde didn't respond to that. "Let me just talk to them first. I don't doubt they would both prefer any company as long as you're not an Auror."

"Surely, in your father's head, I'm practically one already?" Harry teased.

"Yes and no. Things have changed, Harry. As odd as it sounds ... I have my father back." He sighed and flexed his jaw. "I don't know how to thank you for that."

"Me?!" Harry choked. "I didn't do anything!"

"You won the war, Harry," Draco said as he reached up and stroked the brunette's cheek. "You spoke for us at the trials. Thanks to you, I have my father back. Thank you." With that, he placed a soft kiss to the corner of Harry's mouth, before opening the bedroom door and leading the way downstairs.

As instructed, Harry waited just outside the doors of the front parlour, out of sight, and let Draco enter and close the doors before -no doubt -casting a silencing charm on the doors. He didn't know what was said and he would probably never get a straight answer. All he knew was that some time later, the doors opened and Draco beckoned him inside.

The atmosphere was tense in the parlour.

Harry felt like he didn't know what to do with himself; was he blinking too fast? Did he look either of the Malfoy seniors in the eye? What should he do with his hands? Should he shake theirs? What if they didn't like how sweaty his palms were getting? What if -?

"Mr. Potter, how nice of you to join us today," Narcissa preened elegantly as she extended her hand. "Surely you have better places to be on such a fine holiday?"

"Yes," Lucius interjected as Harry shook Narcissa's hand. "Surely there are some Muggleborns needing saving somewhere?"

The fact that Mr. Malfoy hadn't used the word 'Mudblood' was not lost on Harry. Perhaps that had been one of Draco's conditions. Extending his hand Harry shook his head, "Sadly, my super powers aren't needed today. Maybe tomorrow though."

Lucius' eyes narrowed a fraction before giving Harry's hand the barest of shakes.

Draco busied himself over at the black granite bar, pouring out small glasses of eggnog. Harry didn't mention how 'Muggle' it all seemed. He accepted his glass and waited until everyone had one before they raised their glasses in a silent salute and drank. It was incredibly tense. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle a little as he drank silently and stifled a sigh.

The small glass clock chimed from the mantelpiece. It was now 10AM.

"Brunch should be ready," Narcissa smiled. She stood up, brushed her silvery skirts down and slipped her arm through Harry's. "Now Harry you must tell us all about your holiday." Harry chanced a glance over at Draco who merely smirked and raised his empty glass in another salute. He was the one who wanted to spend Christmas at Malfoy Manor. Now he must suffer for his naivety.

Brunch went as well as Draco could have expected. Of course Narcissa and Harry would get on like a house on fire. Draco sat back taking it all in. His father watched with narrowed eyes at this once-enemy sitting across from him, conversing and dining with his family as though it was just another day to him. It was all quite amusing to Draco. A small part of him couldn't help but think that this was how it would be to introduce Harry as his boyfriend. His heart faltered at the thought. He couldn't think on that. They had made it perfectly clear that they would only be friends once on British soil. It wouldn't work.

"-co? Draco, dear, it's time to open the presents." His mother's voice caught him off-guard. Blinking, he saw that -in fact -the plates had been cleared away and they he was the only one sitting down.

"Yes, sorry mother," he said automatically as he stood up, brushed himself down and followed his family out into the front parlour. The tree looked just as grand now that the drapes were open letting the pale, winter sunshine pour inside.

Lucius dominated a large armchair by the fireplace, whilst Harry was accosted onto the sofa beside Narcissa. Draco took the armchair opposite his father. Narcissa gracefully hand out the small selection of presents and just as she was about to pluck at the ribbon, Harry cleared his throat. "Actually, Mrs. Malfoy, if it's not too impolite. I have a few presents of my own for you and your family. If that's okay?"

Narcissa was momentarily stunned but recovered quicker than her husband who had almost choked on his whiskey. "Of course, dear, I just hadn't expected it. I feel entirely indebted since I haven't gotten anything for you."

Harry shook his head. "It's okay, honestly. Anyway there are for you." With a flick of his wand he summoned three beautifully wrapped parcels in black and silver wrapping paper. He handed them out; Narcissa's was the smallest, Draco's was the flattest, and Lucius' was somewhere in between.

Narcissa slipped hers out of the wrapping, pried open the ivory velveteen box. Her hand flew to her throat. "Oh! It's -It's ever so lovely!"

"If I may?" Harry reached over and eased the small, platinum locket open. Inside were two portraits; one of her and her husband on their wedding day -where Harry had come across them was beyond her -and the other photo was of the first official portrait of Draco as a baby; he had a spray of white blonde hair and clear eyes all accented by the white silk sheets he lay upon as he beamed up at the camera.

It was the happiest all Malfoys had been.

"Harry -thank you." The weight of her words were more than enough.

"It was nothing really," he flushed.

Lucius was next to open his gift. It was a bottle of a very rare, rather potent wine that was so rich that is was almost blue in colour instead of the deep burgundy red. He was most unimpressed until he turned the bottle around and read the label. Draco had never seen his father's face composure slip so gracelessly in company before. "Well ,Mr. Potter, you've surely outdone yourself."

"What is it, father?" Draco asked, itching to open his own present. The bar was climbing higher and higher.

"A bottle of Peveralls blue-blooded wine. There are only five known stores of it in the world."

Draco's eyes snapped to Harry. "And you found one?"

Harry looked sheepishly. "I had some feelers out about auctions and various winery's and the like. This one came from New Zealand."

Lucius traced the label with his fingertips. He was in awe. "I -" he cleared his throat, "Yes well, this is a most esteemed gift."

It was as close to a 'thank you' as Harry knew he'd ever get. He took it.

Finally it was Draco's turn.

Taking his present in both hands he unwound the ribbon and made short work of the black wrapping paper with silver polka dots patterned all over it. He opened the wrapping and was stunned by what he saw. It was a Ministry letter, marked and sealed with the Minister's own personal stamp. It was a letter to notify him that all money for his bail as well as damages attached to his name, and grief reparations intended for after his hearing, were now paid. His house arrest would end on January the first, and he would be cleared of all charges still lingering on his name.

In essence, Harry had given him his freedom.

His eyes were wet. He was close to tears he could feel it. Drawing in a deep, damp breath he stood up from the sofa. Looking from one face to the other he stammered, "I'm sorry I -" There were no words. Turning on his heel, he briskly left the parlour, slamming the doors behind him.

Narcissa went to go after him but Harry beat her to it. "No, let me. It was too much." He hurried after Draco, taking care to close the door softly after him. "Draco?" he called as entered the entrance hall. He caught sight of the blonde disappearing up the staircase. "Draco, wait!" He caught up with the blonde on the first floor landing. "Draco I'm so sorry it was too much I shouldn't have-"

Draco pulled Harry close and buried his face in his neck. He let out wet, wild sobs that shook his entire body. He heaved and shivered before choking softly as the emotions wrangled out of him. He sighed with relief as Harry tenderly rubbed his back. "You're such a wonderful person, Harry!" he croaked out as his knees faltered a little. The brunette held him fast. "You're just ... everything."

Harry shook his head. "You deserve to have this nonsense off your shoulders. I want to start the new year with you being able to go out wherever you want when you want."

"Still ..." Draco sniffed.

"Still nothing." Harry leaned the blonde off him, looked up into his eyes and wiped the wet tracks from his flushed cheeks. "Now, rinse your face quickly. You still need to give your mother her present."

"It's for both of them," Draco said as he went into a nearby bathroom and quickly rinsed his face. Harry wondered how anyone knew where anything was in the manor. All the doors looked the same.

"Well then, let's go and give it to them," Harry said.

Draco sighed. He knew his gifts wouldn't compare to Harry's. It was both sweet and annoying at the same time. Damned Potter. The thought didn't leave him feeling bitter though and he wasn't sure he liked that feeling. With a sigh, he straightened up and walked side-by-side with Harry down the main staircase. Draco needn't have worried though; his parents both loved the white marble pensieve along with the gilt trunk filled with ornate bottled memories.

Draco himself got a rare tome of Dragons from his mother and a pocket watch from his father made from titanium and a genuine marble face.

Buying for Harry had given Draco a chronic headache. He'd wanted something to be perfect but it was hard. What do you get for a man who could literally buy anything he wanted? In the end he had gotten the only thing he'd been able to think of; he had found it stored away in one of the Black Family vaults, a long-lost portrait of Sirius Black. It had been covered in a tarp and hadn't seen daylight in over a decade. Some restoration charms later, supervised with an Auror in the vicinity, Sirius' portrait was fully functional and quick-witted as ever.

He hadn't known if it had been wise but Harry's wobbling lower lip and teary eyes were answer enough.

Everyone was shocked when Harry placed the portrait to one side and almost cracked Draco's rib cage in a bone-crushing hug. Draco hugged him back, all too aware that his parents' were watching. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Harry gushed as he pulled away. "I've never been able to find a portrait of him. Now I have one!"

Draco watched as Harry admired the portrait of his smart-mouthed cousin. Harry's happiness was the only thanks he needed.

Suffice to say, Christmas at the manor that year was one of the best they'd had in years.

* * *

 **A/N: Please R &R! Only a couple more chapters left!**


	18. New Year & Nonsense

**A/N: Thank you to FanofBellaandEdward for proof-reading this for me!**

* * *

 **Chapter Seventeen:**

 **New Year & Nonsense**

In three days' time they were going to take Harry off life-support and see if they could wake him up. Draco so desperately wanted to be there for it, but his new schedule to kiss the presses' arse was making it unbearably difficult to see it as a possibility.

He woke up feeling more and more anxious every day, wondering if he would be able to get to Harry in time before visiting hours were over. He didn't know what it was but fate seemed to be rallying against him all of a sudden. He even missed one day entirely to the point that Dr. Jacob had locked the front doors and Draco had to yell through the glass to know how Harry was holding up.

He refused to let that happen again.

That's why when Ms. Honeybutton fire-called him later that morning and told him he had a press conference at 4PM he was extremely displeased about it. "I'm sorry Draco," she said sympathetically. "They kept pushing the times back. Although it's fixed now so there shouldn't be any other complications."

"These conferences _are_ the complication," he'd snarled through gritted teeth.

"Just remember you can leave whenever you want," she said flippantly. "Just answer the main questions and it'll be fine."

Draco merely hummed and disconnected the call. If he conversed any longer with that woman he'd say something he'd regret. She still had him in the palm of her hand. It was a strange feeling. Rubbing his scratchy eyes he looked around; the flat was silent now that he was alone with no Seeker or Harry. He felt so empty, so desperate to change everything for the better. He could feel any life he had slipping away through his fingers. How had it gotten to this stage?

Now that he was seated, yet again, in front of all those journalists, reporters and various Ministry officials, he couldn't help but lack the words for any of the questions fired his way. Really, how could they still have questions? And the same ones for the matter?

Not that he had to say much. Winnie was doing most of the talking. Until ...

"So, Mr. Malfoy, are we still to understand that Mr. Potter is still in critical condition and has no way of knowing about this book?"

The question caught him off-guard. It was certainly different, that for sure. Yet somehow, it also seemed to be an accusation toward him. He frowned. Winnie started to reply in her light-hearted way but Draco raised his hand and hushed her instantly. "Yes," he said tightly, "he is."

"So, you haven't gotten his permission to tell this story or use the photos involved in it?" the reporter, a sleek-haired blonde with bottle green eyes and an up-turned nose scrutinised him over the crowd.

"You don't need to answer that," Winnie murmured near him. He ignored her.

"No, that's correct."

"So what will you do is he disapproves of any of this? He's never been one, allegedly, to like his private life flashed about."

Draco felt his throat grow tight. It had been a concern of his, sure, when he'd started this venture. However, Harry had also been the one who'd wanted their story told. "I think he would be proud of all the good the proceeds have done so far and will continue to do," he replied confidently.

The reporter licked her lips, feeling her edge slipping away, and reiterated, "And if he _isn't_?"

Draco focused his hard gaze on the reporter. He watched her eye twitch. She was itching for his reply and a little bit on edge about how he'd react. She didn't know him, none of them did. The point of this book was to change that, despite how much he'd love to rip chunks of blonde hair out of her pretty little head. He counted to ten in his head and focused on his breathing. _In ... Out ... In ... Out ..._

"Then I'll be more than happy to have our first proper argument in over six months."

The conference room erupted into a babble of questions blending in to one another but he couldn't tell who was saying what. He had a small, self-satisfied smirk on his mouth. One good thing about the press was that they were so easy to antagonise. It was truly the only fun he was able to have at these things. He couldn't help but wonder if all of this was normal. He'd never heard of any other author having to go to such lengths, and even with his Death Eater background, this many publicity stunts weren't warranted, surely?

He was brought out of his musings by Ms. Honeybutton's voice saying, "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, we'll be taking a short recess and then afterwards Mr. Malfoy will answer any questions solely about the book. Any other types of questions will be ignored."

A hand on his shoulder drew him out of his chair and into the 'Green Room' behind the conference room. As soon as the door closed and the charms were in place he felt a little calmer but also a lot more restless. One quick glance at the clock told him that it was well back six in the evening. He didn't want to miss his time with Harry.

"Thanks for the quick exit, Winnie, but I need to head off. Visiting hours close slightly later on a Friday, so I'll get time with Harry." He grabbed his coat off the back of the chair he'd been sat in before heading into the conference room.

Winnie looked puzzled. "Draco you can't go. I just told them you'd answer more questions."

"With all due respect, all their questions are the same." He shrugged. "I don't really care to sit through another hour of this."

"But Draco -"

"I'm sorry," he said as he reached the door. "Besides, I'm sure you can answer the questions yourself. You've read this story more in depth than I have."

"But you lived it!" she protested feebly.

He gave a wry smirk over his shoulder. "Which is why you'd know exactly what they'd want to hear. I'll see you tomorrow no doubt."

With that, he left.

~0~

Despite how well Christmas Day itself had gone, Draco was reluctant to hold onto the hope that his good fortune would continue for the remainder of the holiday. Harry had stayed late yesterday and was still in one of the guest rooms across the hall as boxing day dawned. Draco had been having a lovely, peaceful rest after having stared at his gift for over an hour. He couldn't believe that Harry had actually used his influence on the still-uncertain Ministry.

The days following Christmas Day were casual and easy-going. A small lull in activity until New Year's Eve came around.

Like Christmas, New Year's Eve used to be a grand affair at the manor. Now, of course, there was no real way it could happen. Next year perhaps, but not this time.

In those days between 'celebrations' Draco was left on his own to muse; Harry had gotten an owl from the Weasley's saying they were sorry they over-reacted, he was only being nice to keep up appearances after the war, and did he mind coming to the Burrow for New Years since he'd missed boxing day with them?

He had ummed and ah-ed about it for a while, prattling on in that adorable manner Draco was so fond of, constantly clawing at his hair, until it got to the point that the blonde lost his temper. He snapped and told Harry that if he was so indecisive, he might as well just go seeing as he clearly missed the red-haired bunch. Harry had initially tried to protest, but it is quite hard to do so when an irritable blonde man is dragging you to the front door by your collar, all but throws you out, and then shoves the few meagre things brought with you, by your feet.

The door had slammed shut and that was it.

Draco hadn't heard from Harry since.

One part of him had been tempted to write and apologise. The other part of him told him to grow a pair.

He was now left to his own devices. That mainly consisted of joining both his mother and father on trips into the memories Harry and he had stored as part of their Christmas present. Some evenings he stayed up late and had a quiet drink with his father by the fireplace. It would have been nice, if his mind wasn't constantly returning to the black-haired man who had left not twelve hours prior.

He tried desperately to entertain himself; alas there was only so much a young wizard could do whilst under house arrest and having his magic restricted.

On the day of the 31st of December he was tucked away in his room, perched at his window seat with his knees drawn up, wearing nothing but a green and white Slytherin jumper and a pair of black slacks. It was the most casual he'd been since the holiday. His mind kept wondering back to those sun-kissed days desperately wanting to be waking up in Harry's arms again. He kept deluding himself that being back was a horribly dull dream and he'd be waking up in Spain, or France or even Turkey.

Every morning he woke up completely disappointed, and every evening he believed his fantasies a little less. Soon they would vanish all together. He hated that feeling but he wasn't exactly going to beg Harry to come back.

He had known since he could consciously think for himself that he did not handle rejection well. Having Harry reject him so many times on so many levels was chipping away at his soul and there was very little he could do to stop it from happening. Twiddling his wand between his fingers he watched as frost misted the windows from the other side. It was going to be another bitter night that even the fires would scarcely warm the manor.

Draco sighed.

Being rejected for the Weasleys was only going to happen so many times in one life-time. First there was the friendship and then there was this? What was the next time going to be for? Well, with any luck there wasn't going to be another time. He wouldn't let it happen, nor would he let any relationship with Harry get to that stage, again, where he'd have to choose.

It would have to be all or nothing.

By four o'clock in the afternoon, the sky outside was a dark indigo. Black cold clouds rolled in on the howling wind. Draco sat there for another few hours before he decided to get up, stretch and go down into the front parlour to see what his parents were doing. Probably nothing, or perhaps father was reading and his mother was at the piano? He couldn't hear any music, so he doubted it.

On his way down through the halls, he ducked into one of their libraries, plucked out a book, and opted to join his father in reading beside the fire. What else was he going to do? As he entered the parlour both his parents looked up where they were reading, in his father's case, or embroidering in his mother's. They gave him brief, tired smiles before resuming their work in quiet contemplation.

Silence it was then. How festive.

Reclining back into the armchair, Draco opened his book, propped his arm on the armrest with his chin in his hand, much to his mother's disapproval, and read.

At seven o'clock they had a nice family meal in the dining room and talked about the memories they'd visited.

At nine o'clock they had dessert and coffee, as it was a special occasion, and then retired to the front parlour once again.

At eleven o'clock, Draco gave up that small bead of hope in his chest that Harry would definitely change his mind.

The closer it drew to midnight, the closer Draco was considering just going to bed and sleeping his way into the new year. When he mentioned this thought out loud, to his surprise, it was his father who talked some sense into him.

"Don't be an idiot, Draco. I didn't raise you that way," he stated as he sipped at his drink -the one Harry had given him. "You are going to stay down here and enter the New Year with us whether you like it or not. We have suffered as a family, and it will continue that way. You are not some over-privileged little tart like that Parkinson girl, who will just wail like a banshee whenever her later 'sweetheart' didn't reply to her own within two minutes. You are a Malfoy, so start acting like one."

"And how do I do that?" the younger blonde asked drily.

"By not sitting there with a face like a lemon just because the Saviour of our corrupt little world didn't drop by."

"Lucius!" Narcissa hissed.

"It's true. He's done nothing but sulk. He's not happy in and he's not happy out. At least when he was out, I didn't have to look at it." Draco opened his mouth to retort when a loud banging came from the front door. Lucius scowled even more. "Oh terrific. Probably an Auror come to slap another restriction on me for raising my voice."

Draco looked down at his father as he stood up but didn't respond. Instead he pressed his lips together and went to answer the door.

He was not expecting to see Harry there with his fist raised to knock again and his other hand holding a pocket watch.

Deep inside he was overjoyed to see the brunette. On the other hand, he wasn't in the mood for games. "What do you want?" he said.

Harry frowned. "No, 'How are you Harry?' or 'Nice to see you?'"

Draco shook his head. "Nope. You ignored me for six days."

"You kicked me out!"

They were at a stalemate. Draco ground his teeth together. "So? Why are you here, insisting I open the door to this frigid weather?"

Harry glanced down at his pocket watch before grabbing Draco's jumper. "This," he gasped out before crushing their mouths together. Draco was stunned as he felt Harry melt into the kiss and wrap his arms around the blonde's neck. Draco couldn't refuse, and he clutched Harry's waist and crushed him against his chest.

"Fuck I missed you," he panted between kisses, Harry's red open mouth welcoming his tongue instantly. Merlin, he _had_ missed kissing Harry! Every gasp, every suck on his lips every grind of their hips drove him wild. He felt alive again! "Ah wait, wait, wait!" he gasped, breaking the kiss and shivering as the cold pressed against him. "What are you doing here?"

Harry blinked and then frowned. "I ... Didn't you get my owl?" he asked.

"What owl?"

"I ... I sent you an owl ... I said I was coming back tonight. That'd I'd explain more when I got here, but basically I've been arguing with the Weasleys all week and was wondering if you ... if you still had room for me in your life."

Draco frowned, his lips still tingling. "In ... what way?"

"As ... well ... Can we date?"

"Date?"

"Yes, date. Like ... what do Purebloods do? ... Courting?" He looked so lost, with his large green eyes and windswept hair.

Draco's heart was in his throat. "You ... Want to date me?"

Harry, shaking from the cold, nodded his head. "That's w-what we were fighting about. I s-said I wasn't happy c-cause I wasn't with you."

Draco blinked. Harry had abandoned his adoptive family ... for him? Was he worth it? Would he regret it in months to come, if things suddenly turned sour? He should be over-joyed, but ever since sixth year he had severe doubts in his head about anything that was too good to be true. Blinking back to the moment, he looked down into those bright green eyes, his heart in his throat. "Are ... Are you sure about this? It's all or nothing, Harry. I won't just stand aside if you change your mind in a week, a month, or a year."

Harry's mouth stretched into a broad grin. "I won't be changing my mind ever again," he hugged himself closer to Draco's body. "Happy New Year ... Boyfriend." He nuzzled closer, his lips warm against Draco's ear, "Can you let me inside now, I'm freezing my arse off!"

"Oh right!" Draco sprang away and pushed the heavy doors even wider to let Harry back inside the manor, his life, and his heart.

* * *

 **A/N: Almost finished with this story. Please R &R!**


	19. Time

**A/N: Thank you to FanofBellaandEdward for proof-reading this for me!**

* * *

 **Chapter Eighteen:**

 **Time**

When you're a kid all you ever seem to do is complain about time, and not having enough of it.

In fact, it seemed like the most common complaint among humans, wizards and muggles alike. There was never enough hours in the day to do all you wanted, or enough hours in the day.

It was a daring thing to ever ask for more time, and that's what Draco found himself doing. For over a week he was torn from one conference, to a book reading and back again. He didn't know why he bothered most of the time. He had to be escorted by a few trained watchmen just to make sure that he wasn't attacked in the middle of a hallway. There had already been a vague attempted on his life in one of his previous conferences; someone in the crowd had jumped up and shouted out a curse and aimed a wand his way.

He'd been dragged down to the floor. He'd heard hundreds of shouts, curses fizzing through the air and -eventually -the culprit had been dragged in for questioning and arrested. The conference had ended and Draco had gotten to see Harry a lot earlier than planned.

That had been over week ago.

He had been pulled back and forth by everyone he knew and he was getting sick of it. He just needed to be there, at Harry's side, when he woke up. That was the only thing that mattered to him. Hermione had popped by one morning to interrogate him about the date for when they were going to try and wake Harry. It had been arranged for that Saturday evening. She was going to get her and Ron to book the time off on Monday just in case Draco needed any more help. His parents were arranging things for when Harry came back home. Not to mention all the children; they had all missed Uncle Harry since he'd gone 'on a very long holiday' and really hoped he could come home before Christmas.

There was no real way to tell them that there was a chance that Uncle Harry wouldn't come back from their holiday.

Draco didn't want to face that reality. It was too stark, too harrowing that there was no way to overcome it.

All too soon that dreaded day came. Unfortunately, Draco woke was staring across a crowded room lined with books as he signed copies of his book. It was a better turnout than numerous previous occasions, but that didn't dampen the impact that, whilst the love of his life was going to be switched off life support, he was scrawling his name in tons of books. He was almost sure his signature had changed five times in the last month alone.

The worst part of it all? It wasn't even half-way through his little book tour. He honestly wasn't sure how it had happened but somehow he'd gotten roped into it.

A moment of weakness.

"Okay ladies and gentlemen we're going to take a break now," Winnie's voice called across the bookstore. "We'll be back in half an hour to reconvene."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief as he stood up and made his way to the back room behind the staff entrance. He was beyond caring about what he wrote in the people's bloody books. What was once a great idea was gnawing away at his arse. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was half past two. He was going to be late if he didn't leave now.

Casting a flippant gaze around the room, his eyes landed on the fireplace used for the floo network. He needed to contact Hermione. Making sure he wouldn't be disturbed, he cast a silencing charm on the door and grabbed the pot of powder from the mantle and tossed a pinch in. The flames roared to life, flaring emerald green.

Hermione's face loomed up to him.

" _Draco where are you? You said you'd be done by one_."

"I know," he groaned out. "There was a delay in setting everything up. Apparently." He rolled his eyes to show his disbelief. There was no way -on the biggest day of his life to date -that THIS nonsense happened. "How is everything?" he asked.

She pursed her lips a little, " _They're alright. Dr. Jacob is just trying to make the room comfortable with the heating and aromas. Plus lighting. He doesn't want Harry to be too overwhelmed. He's also been trying to prepare us that ... there is a chance of brain damage_."

Draco closed his eyes and breathed. He knew that. He'd known from the start that there was a huge chance that whilst the cancer was probably cured, the lasting effects of being in an induced coma for so long may have resulted in other complications.

"I know," he finally said. "Right now that's just an unfortunate downside. He will still be 'Harry'." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Who else is there with you?"

" _Your parents are here. So far no insults are flying_ ," she gave a chaste smile. " _Ron is on his way. He just dropped the kids off._ "

"At least it'll be quiet. Have you lit any candles?" he asked, his hands suddenly feeling hot. Candles had always relaxed Harry in a way Draco couldn't understand. He liked the soft lighting and the way the light always danced with every breath.

" _Not yet. We probably won't until at least ten minutes before Dr. Jacob tries to wake him_." She paused for a moment before sighing, " _Draco you really need to be here!_ "

"I will be!" he snapped. "Just ... don't wait. Harry's waited long enough. I _will_ be there."

" _I hope so. See you soon._ " Her face disappeared and then the flames died almost instantly.

"Yeah ... Soon ..." Draco murmured to the empty fireplace. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man, the book was selling well all things considered and he'd even gotten a few apology letters in his mail from people he'd never met or even heard of before, saying that they had always thought he was a horrible, evil child but reading the book made them see him in a new light.

The only thing missing from his picture-perfect life was Harry.

That was all going to change.

His half an hour was up. They weren't due to try and wake Harry for another three hours. He needed to wrap this rubbish up within an hour tops if he was going to make it in time. He knew how to get everyone else on his side, it was convincing Ms. Honeybutton that his partner's life was more important than yet another interview answering the same damned questions.

A soft knock came from the door.

" _Draco? We're ready for you_."

With a flick of his wand, he disabled the silencing charm. "I'll be right out."

Meanwhile, in the hospital room, Hermione was reclining in a chair near Harry's beside while she waited for the arrival of her husband. Mr. Malfoy was off to one side staring absently out of the window, his hands clasped behind his back. Narcissa had stepped out for some fresh air, so suffice to say the tension in the room was as thick as toffee. She'd looked up from her book a number of times, debating at the back of her mind if she was that bored she would willingly start up a conversation with the man. Each time she thought better of it.

He'd probably crave the excuse to insult her anyway.

Imagine her surprise, when he started talking, more to himself than to her.

"When Draco came back from that holiday he was like a new man," he murmured somewhat listlessly. "I hated it at first. That of all people, it was Harry Potter that made my son that happy after the war." Hermione stay silent, her hands clutching her book a little tighter. "After the new year well ... it was obvious he was happy. When Harry came to us one evening he said he wanted our permission to date our son. Draco probably put him up to it, but he was proper and above all respectful. I still resented him, how could I not? He was the saviour and I was a Death Eater." He paused for a moment, breathing. "I wanted to hate them for it -their relationship. As it turns out I couldn't. They were too happy. My son ... He was finally happy."

At last, he turned around and Hermione was too stunned for words when she was the gleaming wet trail cutting through Mr. Malfoy's white cheek.

"Sir ..." she murmured softly, feeling too much like a child again. "You're ... um ..." She tapped her cheek.

Whipping a handkerchief out of his cuff, he swiped at his cheek and inhaled deeply. "You know, ever since Harry had been in his coma I have regrets. I regret that I didn't treat him as a second son. If he were to come out of this, that is going to change. He will know he is part of the Malfoy family."

"Mr. Malfoy," she started after a moment. "That's all Harry ever wanted in life. A family."

"And now he will have it. Permanently."

Hermione didn't know what to say to that. Thankfully, she was saved from answering anything by Narcissa coming back into the room. The older woman turned her head around the room and frowned. "Is Draco still not here?" she asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry Mrs. Malfoy, but he did say he was going to leave as soon as possible. He said he was going to be here."

Narcissa didn't say anything. She merely pursed her lips, inclined her head and went over into her own seat. "I was just speaking with Dr. Jacob. He said that as soon as we're ready we can start the process."

"I think we should give Draco a chance to get here, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Oh, I plan on it. But at the same time, Harry has waited long enough. My son has one hour. Besides, we've been warned that it will take Harry a while to come back to us on his own."

Hermione didn't say anything. She simply opened her book to where she'd left off and continued reading.

~0~

" _Mr. Malfoy what was the inspiration for the ..._ "

Draco didn't hear the rest of the question. He zoned out. He felt bloodless and sticky, greasy being under the florescent lights. He felt so pathetic just sitting there! He dropped his head down and let out a dry little laugh. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he brushed the silence away, giving a sardonic smile to the reporter he'd interrupted. "I'm sorry but ..." he took in a deep breath and looked around the room. "I'm done."

"I ... er ... W-What do you mean you're done?" the reporter asked, frowning.

Standing up, he waved his wand and disarmed all charms off of him. His voice returned to its normal volume and any amplifying make up disintegrated. A small gasp rippled through the crowd at just how rough and haggard he truly was. He raked a hand through his hair and flexed his shoulders. He drew in a deep breath and stood a little straight. "I'm done. No more interviews, no more book tour. If you like my book, great. If you don't? I couldn't give a fuck! My book is here to tell a story, not to give endless interviews. They were to set the record straight as well as raise money for other people in my partner's condition. Now, if it pleases you ... I'm going to be with Harry now."

Without a backwards glance, and expertly ignoring Winnie's calls of his name, he stepped down off of the raised platform and walked out the door.

He didn't even stop to grab his stuff. He simply accio-ed it on the way down the hall towards the main exit.

The air was frigid as he stepped out of the warm building.

The sky was dark, frosty and wide open, white specks dotting the empty canvas. The world felt wide open and ready to grab a hold of. Adjusting the collar of his coat, he fastened it tightly before turning sharply on his heel and down the alleyway.

Unfortunately for him, he was only able to apparate into London. Dr. Jacob had some intensive anti-apparition enchantments in place and he didn't want to get splinched. In a way he didn't mind but he was already cutting it close all things considered. He needed to be there for when Harry woke up. He wanted to be one of the first person -nay, the first person -Harry saw.

Of course the trains were delayed. That would be exactly how the day would end. Glancing at the huge gleaming clock looming over the station, he ground his teeth and sighed heavily. Fingers curled into fists and his temper swelled. He only really had one alternative, but he dreaded taking it. He had only taken it three times in his life thus far, but ... this was clearly an emergency. In the end he really had no choice. He walked back out into the cold, open night and strode down road after road until he came to a very empty road in Kensington.

Slipping his wand out of his holster, he deliberated for a moment, before raising it over his head.

The Knight Bus came crashing around the corner within moments.

He climbed aboard, shoved some galleons at the conductor and took a seat on the vacant bed at the far end. He murmured a few stabilising charms so that his bed wouldn't roll all over the floor. With a lurch, the bus was hurtling through London at break-neck speed. His palms were sweating and his heart was racing. All he could think about was getting to the other side of London.

~0~

A soft knock came from the door. Three heads turned to see Dr. Jacob poke his head around the side. "I'm sorry. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy but it would be unwise to wait any longer."

The air in the room became stiff and tight. There was nothing they could really say. Narcissa glanced around at the crestfallen faces and drew in a deep breath. "In that case, Dr. Jacob, we're ready. We want to reduce the risk of bran damage as much as possible, like you said."

With a bow of his head, he came into the room levitating the rest of his equipment in with his wand. They cleared the area around the bed to give him some space. He set-up the equipment with deft hands, plugging in the defibrillator in case of an emergency, as well as adjusting the climate of the room. He dimmed the lights, turned the temperature up a little and plugged in a little muggle air freshener. The scent soon filled the room and made the atmosphere rather cosy.

Some of the tension eased out of everyone's muscles as Dr. Jacob came up to the head of Harry's bed, levitating a small tray of syringes beside him. Taking hold of Harry's limp, cold hand, he pierced the white flesh with the tip of a needle. The bright purple liquid drained easily into Harry's veins. Questions were on the tips of everyone's tongue and the young doctor, no doubt, sensed it.

"This is just a calming potion to make sure he doesn't go into shock. He's been out for a very long time. I want to take any precaution I can to reduce any swelling or damage to the brain."

"What's that one?" Ron asked, as Dr. Jacob picked up a syringe with turquoise liquid inside.

"This is just to try and wake him up. It will happen very slowly in Harry's mind. For us, however, it may happen quicker than we think."

Five pairs of eyes watched as the potion was drained into Harry's system. The monitor beeped consistently, showing no discernible change in the brain activity or the heartbeat.

"His vitals are still good but it will take a little longer to take full effect," the Doctor placated, having sensed their disappointment. "If you like, try talking to him. Hearing something familiar to ground his mind should help. I'll just be down the hall if you need me."

As soon as the doctor left the room, Hermione glanced at the others as she slid her chair a little closer and took hold of one of Harry's limp hands. Narcissa mirrored her movements on the other side, their husbands standing behind them. Hermione let out a watery laugh, "This seems so silly. I feel like I don't know what to say to him anymore."

"Maybe give him a lecture on something?" Ron teased.

"We want him to come out of the coma, Ronald," Hermione sniffed as she cuffed her nose.

The monitor 'beeped' a little louder.

"Did you see that?" Ron pointed.

"He seems to have recognised your voice," Lucius intoned.

 _BEEP._

"And yours, dear," Narcissa said.

"Do you think Draco will make it in time?" Hermione whispered, her voice on edge as she squeezed Harry's hand tighter.

 _BEEP BEEP_.

"Lucius perhaps you should fetch the doctor back. Just in case something were to happen." Lucius wasted no time in gliding from the room in a sweep of his robes.

"Harry, can you hear me?" Hermione asked, leaning a little closer. "We're all here for you, Harry. It's time to wake up."

 _BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP_!

Harry lurched high from the bed, his mouth wide open and gasping for air, his eyes flitting erratically in his sockets.

"DOCTOR JACOB! WE NEED YOU!"

Ron pushed past Hermione and did his best to restrain Harry from flailing about on the bed and injuring himself. He didn't seem able to breathe probably, air hissing through his teeth as his body started twitching and jerking. Dr. Jacob hurried in and adjusted Ron's hold on Harry. "I need you to stand back Ron, he's going into cardiac arrest."

"Do something!" Hermione wept out, her eyes already streaming.

Dr. Jacob charged up the pads and pressed them against Harry's spasming chest. "CLEAR!"

The dull thud punched through Harry's system, stilling him for a moment. The monitor continued to beep erratically.

"CLEAR!"

The beeping slowed far too quickly.

"Shit!" Dr. Jacob cursed as he set the paddles aside. "Everyone out now! He snarled over his shoulder as he placed his hands over Harry's chest and started to compress. "Don't -You -Dare -Die!"

The door banged open.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Draco snapped, his face red, his hair dishevelled and his robes and utter state. He shoved Ron out of the way, Hermione quickly following, and threw his coat to the floor. He pushed the doctor's hands aside and started to do the compression's himself. "Harry fucking Potter!" he sneered, "You -defeated -Dementors ..." He blew air into his mouth before pumping again. "You -Killed -Voldemort" More air into the lungs. "Don't -You -Dare -Leave -Me!" More air.

The long wail of no heartbeat perpetrated the air.

Still Draco continued to press on the frail chest.

Tears streamed down his face but he couldn't care less. Harry was so pale underneath him. He'd seen those green eyes flutter, just for a moment. One more set and he'd wake up!

"Draco," His mother's voice was too soft, too sad. This wasn't her fault, he knew that, but even so he wanted to throw something at her so that she didn't keep talking. Somehow, however, the silence was worse. "Draco, darling."

"No!" he said. "He's not dead!"

"Mr. Malfoy ..."

Draco waved his hand, shaking his head. He didn't need those words to be spoken. No good would come from it. Another tear dripped down his face and off his chin. Who knew being so empty would leave him feeling so heavy too? Leaning down he stroked his fingers down Harry's clammy cheek and let out a wet, shaky sigh. "Goodbye my love," he breathed as he pressed a wet kiss to Harry's forehead. His mouth was numb, his lips useless as he let out a heartbreaking sob and collapsed onto the bed, Harry's bony frame jutting into him as he cradled the younger man in his arms.

. _.. beep ..._

Draco blinked, uncomprehending. What was that sound?

 _Beep ... Beep ..._

"Harry?" he murmured, his nerves shaking with fear and hope.

"Give him some space," Dr. Jacob demanded as he prised each of Harry's eyelids open and shone a light into them. The pupils reacted. "He's alive!" he declared, as he cast a charm over Harry's mouth, creating a bubble-like effect to help him breathe.

The room was filled with sobs as Draco sank down onto his knees at the bedside, clasping onto Harry's hand as Dr. Jacob carried on taking any and all precautions to stabilise him.

Draco didn't care. Harry was alive and dear Merlin nothing else in the entire world mattered in that moment. He felt like he was dreaming and the only thing that truly anchored him was something he never thought he'd feel again; Harry's fingers twitching beneath his own.

* * *

 **A/N: Please R &R! **


	20. Epilogue

**A/N: Thank you to FanofBellaandEdward for proof-reading this for me!**

* * *

 **Epilogue**

 _Two Months Later_

It was a brisk Autumn day, the sort of perfect day that Draco had always cherished for the beauty in the silence that came with it. They low, grey clouds that hushed far-off sounds so that only things in that small moment in time was audible. The feel of a damp chill would mean it was cool enough for another layer, but no so cold so that you could see your breath in the air. Where leaves of reds, browns and yellows blanketed the damp grass underfoot and made every step extra spongy.

Yes, this was definitely Draco's favourite time of year.

A low grunt came from behind him.

He turned from the kitchen door, where he'd been standing with a mug of tea resting against his chest, his grey eyes wondering out at the landscape beyond the fenced-off garden, to see Harry resting against one of the wooden support beams in the kitchen. Setting his mug on the counter, Draco was at his side in moments, slipping his arm easily around Harry's waist and helping to guide him towards the kitchen table. Normally, the younger man would have protested but there were some times, rare times, when he wouldn't berate Draco for wanting to help him.

He was good at that sort of thing, after all.

"Do you want me to make you some breakfast?" Draco asked once Harry was settled down in one of the chairs. It took a great amount of effort not to ask how Harry was feeling every other minute, but he was resisting fairly well. Harry liked to go on as normal.

Harry let out a tired little sigh as he eased the crutch out from under his arm. Propping it up against the table, he nodded. "Yes please. Something warm if we have anything."

"Porridge?" Draco offered as he glanced through the cupboards.

"Yes please."

"Honey?"

"Yes please."

"Coming up," he smiled softly and set about making he porridge. He then made a cup of tea and put a blob of honey in each. Taking the small breakfast to the table, he set it down and then eased into the chair next to Harry. "How're you feeling this morning?" he asked as he fiddled with one of the small caddies from the counter. He could feel Harry's eyes on him and knew why; neither of them liked that Harry still had to take precautionary tablets for another month, but after all the complications they'd endured thus far, a few tablets a day were a small price to pay.

"I'm glad you put the fire on. It really is getting colder in the evenings now."

Draco was quiet as he watched Harry eat at a steady pace. The truth was, he was drinking in every moment he could. He never thought he'd be able to enjoy the cosiness of something so mundane as having breakfast together. It sounded silly, even to him at times, but he just couldn't deny the peace of mind he now had.

As Harry ate and warmed himself up, Draco cast his eyes around the small stone cottage they were currently living in. He'd bought it not too long after Harry had been stabilised after the coma and subjected to physiotherapy and numerous tests to check for any damage to the brain or his nerves. So far, there were no signs of damage.

There was also no sign of cancer in his system. Dr. Jacob's new treatment had worked. That was enough for Lucius to fully endorse the young doctor's practice and, after taking St. Mungo's to court, the new practice didn't need to survive on volunteers or donations. Now, they were fully equipped and functioning. As soon as all that had come to a head, Draco had brought up the idea of a holiday, just for the two of them. Well, three since Seeker was going with them. This little cottage was now their country get-away. Almost completely muggle, with a few wizarding features that made them feel even more at home. The money from selling his book was going toward Dr. Jacob's practice also as well as anyone still suffering trauma from the war.

Slowly but surely, the Malfoy name was being cleared. Not that Draco cared about that.

Since being at the cottage for the last three weeks they'd slowly been doing exercises to help Harry's mobility. It was still weird watching his hands twitch or shake whenever he picked up a knife and fork, and it broke Draco's heart a little when he had to remind himself that he couldn't just feed Harry up, like Mrs. Weasley wanted to do, if her cake parcels were anything to go by. He needed to slowly build Harry's immune system up, gradually get him eating more and more. It was evident whenever he helped Harry wash. It was even more evident when Harry's shirts would hand down to his hips because of the muscle mass he'd lost.

There were more encouraging moments though. Like when they did exercises and stretches on the hearth in front of the fireplace. Then they'd curl up with some blankets and pillows, Seeker shuffling along to lie in front of them, Harry sandwiched between the two of them, with the TV playing a silly movie on the background. It was the most relaxed either of them had been. They floo-called Hermione, and Draco's parents every few days, mainly just for updates on life, as well as Dr. Jacob coming by to check on Harry's progress. So far, everything seemed to be looking good, and Draco hoped it would stay that way, even if winter was just around the corner.

"Do you want to go for a walk before lunch?" Draco asked, drawing himself back to the moment as Harry drained his tea, the warmth making his cheeks glow a little.

"It's a little damp isn't it?" Harry asked, glancing out of the kitchen window.

"It won't be a long one and I'll make you wear the mittens Molly made you."

Harry gave a small laugh and shook his head, "I can bet you, you have a Weasley sweater under the Christmas tree this year."

"Keep dreaming," Draco muttered darkly. Stretching his arms out, he stood up and helped Harry up onto his crutch. "Go and get your things on and I'll get Seeker." He pressed a warm, lingering kiss to Harry's forehead before heading into the open-plan living area. "Seeker! Walkies!" The jingle of his collar hurried to a halt in the living room.

As soon as the lead was secured, Draco led the dog over to the back door. Harry was already leaning against the door frame, wooden walking stick in hand and his black wool coat bundled around him. "I don't know who likes this sort of weather more, you or the dog," Harry remarked with a grin.

"That's why you love us," Draco smirked before pressing a warm kiss to Harry's lips. "All ready to go?"

Harry dug out his small black skullcap from his pocket. He secured it over the dark fuzz that was starting to grow back on his head before smiling with a nod. "Ready."

Looping his arm through his lovers', Draco led his little family out of the cottage and into the fresh air. Seeker tugged enthusiastically on his lead, but there was no need to rush. Draco closed the back door and locked it before turning to view the green hills that loomed and stretched out before them. Drawing in a deep breath, he tightened his hold on Harry's hand and led their way across the garden to their favourite path -and their future -together.

 **THE END.**

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys, first of all and want to thank you all for the support and much much love to Fanofbellaandedward for being my lovely beta for this story.**

 **Now, just to clarify, YES this is the end. As in, there will be no sequels to this story. Ever. At all. It is done.**

 **Initially I WAS going to have them get married and live HEA but you know what? That's boring at anything else. I felt like this ending was better for them after what they'd been through.**

 **I hope you guys liked the story and I'm sorry for how long the updates took, but its all done now ^_^ I don't have any immediate stories in mind (none that are out of the post-it note phase anyway) so keep an eye out, maybe something will crop up after NANOWRIMO!**

 **Hugs and kisses,**

 **Belle x**


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